She whispers over coffee, her breath stains the cold air wrapping around frozen bones like shawls and afghans. We grasp the motion of dawn with loose skin and press our faces against the frosted glass between the sunlight. Brittle awkward fingers strike the piano keys, crunching the fallen leaves of the tilted Earth; the thunderous symphony of old age. Then comes the beautiful silence; magnets pull the sea of butterflies bringing waves of laughter and splashing.
I like your use of imagery, especially the sea of butterflies. All in all, I think you wrote a good poem. Peace and love
Well, I'm having a hard time deciding whether the shiver that just took over my body was from the poem or the cold. It's a really great poem, needless to say.
it's like nonsense, because I can't figure it out, but it's all so beautiful. I don't know what it is about it but I really dig it. And it makes me think of George Winston's "Autumn" album, which is a very good thing.
Thankyou very much for the comments so far. This poem is a very personal one which probably makes it hard for others to understand. I apoligize for that.
