More women in office. Stand up, speak out, march, run, vote!
For the Daily Prompt: strategy.
For the Daily Prompt: carve. I think of skiing, bicycling. And I think of a piece of my heart. I wrote this in the early 2000s.
Butterfly Girl Comes to Visit
She is so beautiful with her wings
multicolored many splendored lights caught and multiplied
as she flutters
I am an ogre
Huge and clumsy
I know from past past many times
Not to touch you
My rough fingers have brushed the tiny feathers from your wings
You cry in pain and your flight becomes erratic
My kiss is just as bad
If I move the wind of my passing blows you against a window
You fall stunned
I hold and crush
the box of feelings that can hurt you
Sorrow, anger, fear, dismay
Even fatigue turns my aura red
And scorches your wings
I hate to cause you pain
Fly butterfly girl
My baby needs me, my pager rings
My ogre husband stirs
The effort of holding still plain on his face
I can’t hold still much longer
Fly on home
Spring is waiting in the wings, these buds ready and this bird too.
She and I rest some, just enjoying the morning sun.
I love the dark night and the bright day, the moon and the sun, the fire and the water, the love and the grief, the cow and the horse, the dog and the cat, the air and the earth.
Where is the stealthie, you say?
It’s a moon stealthie….the moon is so beautiful.