Wax Butterflies

Wax Butterflies


I do still miss her you know

at least I do

occasionally ..  

and always in a panama hat ..

No, not the one you gave her

but similar ..

and sitting sipping water from

the same cracked stone jug ..

That’s how I often picture her

These days

and anyway ..

The last time, the day was a

bitch .. talk about hot

Even so .. those well-worn steps

were still cool

and kind of kind to the feet ..

Did I mention she

appeared to me, then to be

drowning and lost tho’ in my


and paint daubed shirt .. Yes

the one, that used to be mine

Tired as it was

and tied loose at the waist .. Hey,

don’t you think she looked great

Yes I noticed the same buttons

were missing

and that look on her face,

the one that said

Yes, this is me and I’m free

Oh’ fuck .. for a moment or two

I almost forgot she was free ..

But hey ..

my imagination ran riot that day

and for all that I know

she may have just melted away

right there, before

these very blue eyes of mine ..

Much like that wax butterfly

she once took from the window

to protect

and keep out of the sun ..

As soon as I dared tho’ turn around

and look back,

They had both disappeared and were gone ...