her silent sighs weigh their pale yellow curtsies. she lies in the alfalfa field and listens to their tiny cymbals beat feverishly and shower sweet and sugar upon her cheek.

she turns the other cheek.

her darkened eyes open, and two by two, the butterflies float along. but she falls deeper. the alfalfa, she pulls it close to her body in white. so still, so still, still she feels like floating as the sweet sways across her bare arms.


the tiny cymbals cease. she sings her last sigh.

Talk story

  1. Johanna says:

    I thoroughly enjoyed this piece! I think it has such a musical quality to it. It seems like I can actually see and feel the alfalfa swaying around me and see the butterflies floating nearby. I also like your use of color. Great use of language and imagery! 🙂

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