In air

mt.airyday 001

 

The ending was not what it seemed.

Withering, the beginning of a new stage.

Taking on a new form.

When petals fell, only to change in mid air.

Now flying above the same winds that had plucked them.

Like thousands of butterfly wings.

Raining down color over new ground.

Confetti breezes over cobblestone streets.

Streets far away from the branches that bore them.

These runaway petals.

Painting the town.

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11 thoughts on “In air

  1. Hm… I don’t want to spoil you Devan, so let me put it like this: the usual 😀

    By the way… There’s something incredible about the very word ‘petals’. It does sound so light and fragile. And if you voice the last sound, the whole word tells the story about gentle flight and succumbing to gravity with the last ‘zzz’ (depending on one’s accent, of course :D).

  2. Thank you so much my friend! Since you brought that to my attention, I’ve been sitting here saying the word ‘petals’ out loud just to hear its lightness. Haha! Thanks again. 🙂

  3. flowering trees are quite curious – they spend most of their year ‘naked’ and then for a short amount of time, their color arrives and then leaves (pardon the pun) – for eyes elsewhere to enjoy.

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