Untitled

Walking or not walking, sitting
or not sitting. Forget running.

My heart doesn’t care. It flutters
like a butterfly with long slow

gliding strokes, then bouncing up/down,
tipped over in the wind, closing and

waiting, opening and coasting.
It flutters like a hummingbird

never at rest. There are flowers,
so many flowers, so many,

so much to do. Floating. Air borne,
weightless and whimsical. Silly

heart. What are you doing? And then
it rests. Suddenly. My son folds

his arms around me and doesn’t
want to let go.

2 responses to “Untitled

  1. Nice visual the heart flitting like a butterfly and captured on landing with the hug from your son.

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