The whisper of your voice Pressed to my ear in darkness Chanting fairy tales and recitals Of many moons passed The warmth of your hands Lull me to silence while
I am the flutter sitting On the edge of dreams I am the butterfly dancing Lightly in summer breeze I am the rush of wind Breaking cobwebs free I am the writing on the wall
She wore a smile Like a pretty dress Sunflowers in her hair As she struggled through days Loss of a son Loss of a man Did not strip her of hope Somewhere in the world
She debated long and hard about traveling to Cambridge. He had pleaded over days, and weeks of all night calls. She wrestled with herself. One, he sounded drunk.