A kaleidescope of butterflies signals the awakening of Spring,
the typhoon formed from the flapping of its wing’s flirting with my hair
The sun’s rays not yet hot enough to burn my skin
With memories of that which will die again with time.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A kaleidescope of butterflies signals the awakening of Spring,
the typhoon formed from the flapping of its wing’s flirting with my hair
The sun’s rays not yet hot enough to burn my skin
With memories of that which will die again with time.
Especially fond of your use of personification, particularly this one: “the flapping of its wing’s flirting with my hair.”
🦋🦋🦋