wing
Ross Balcom
a multicolored grief
descends upon my eyes
butterflies disclose to
me
their sorrows
in synesthetic,
color-coded sighs
sorrow sorrow
sorrow
O, we're all a broken
wing
in the ruins
of the sky
Poet's Notes: This poem came to me with the sight of a butterfly one
afternoon. I am fascinated by the phenomenon of synesthesia, and I frequently
see colors (in my mind's eye) in association with sounds. Butterflies
arouse sadness in me because they are beautiful but fragile and
short-lived.
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