Whispers flutter in the leaves
and I hear them tell me memories,
little snapshots seen through translucent wings,
the greying hair upon the fairy queen’s crown.
It wasn’t but an instant ago,
a blink– a beat of tiny lace wings,
that she was here among us all.
Gone—gone to her realm,
gone—vanished to her kingdom,
leaving us with mere flutters,
little whispers of a life long loved,
short in time,
a hummingbird hover,
but sweet in all that she breathed.
Life still dances on
in tiny thatched fairy huts.
Thank you all for reading and sharing your thoughts with me in the comments. This poem, in particular, is a very personal poem but even for those of you who do not know why it might be such a personal poem, I think that the emotion in it can still be understood and felt.
” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”