They ponder the nothings and everythings of life
sitting with their stockinged feet
dangling over the edge of the rickety wooden
bridge, bathed by the fading twilight dawn
as water laps gently at pointed toes
exhale, inhale
their breath a puff of white in the icy cold
their past and present melding with
misty-grey shapeless smoke-futures
a graceless mosaic patched with
kindergarten glue-sticks
stained by tears
shackled by wraiths
a silver-sheened creature struggling to soar
beneath the waning light
reduced to mere flotsam, swiftly
fading, like the caress of a butterfly’s
wing; gently,
then, gone.
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