The Petty Quarrels

A poem for the murmuring starlings

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: pipyr Weight of the butterflies via photopin(license)

I want to grow old enough for grey hair,
Nothing but grey hair and wrinkled skin.
Looking back out of the mirror at me.
I want to watch the sunrise tomorrow,
On a million more tomorrows.
Watch the sunset on my sorrows,
Say goodbye to the pointless squabbles
And begin again.

I want to share secrets with murmuring starlings;
I want to hold my breath beneath the water
While I dive in a spiralling dance with dolphins;
Embrace the metamorphosis like the butterflies;
Cherish each glorious kiss
And the way words linger upon a lover’s lips.
Leave the foothills behind and make toward the light.
Climb higher than ever when I begin to live again.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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