Inner smile (by Andrea Wicks)
I wait for you in August.
I long to see your powdered wings, enrapt at every speck and streak.
Blow into my garden admiral, where I can see you
on parade in all your finery.
Bent low with blooms, your butterfly bush erupts.
Some weed it out. Not me. I planted it for you.
Can it be heard: the sound of cocoons
drying and splitting. Paper wings unfurling.
Tentative first flight.
One ear in the grass, I listen.
My nose touching blades and stems.
Painted shadows sway and lengthen – as day tilts west,
I see you on my finger tip.
Wide eyes hold on to this moment, stitched in my summer memory,
caught between each note.
I loved each line, it flowed like the sea and it gives a whole new nuance to the instrumental. It no longer feels like my solo doodling, it now has become a duet. I’m finding it near impossible to overstate how good it feels. It feels good!!
see more poems, photographs and mindful writings (by Andrea Wicks)