They bloom and spread, those wings
these animal petals with every spring
reaching out inviting the white
sunlight
testing their skin against blazing rays
Laden with morning dew those wings
in keen exuberance they sing
light reflected in a miasma of colour
collapses to a lament as each
drop dries
Fallen from a stricken corpse those
wings
float softly down like broken limbs
awkwardly they sit atop dried earth
till they become one, as they must
Where did they go, those lovely wings
will they form again in the coming
spring
stark and plain, of what colour and hue
condemned to live, like me and you.
~Bittersweet~
