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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #719189
A poem dedicated to a fellow writer for her inspiringly free spirit.
The Free Flowin’ Flutterby

She saunters in; a diamond mole
Flickering in her left nostril.
Her full, loose curls effortlessly
Gathered behind her neck.
Her slender hands rest easy
In the front pocket of her emerald hoodie.
Caressing her bare ankles,
A faded, flowing hippie skirt
Hides two stubbly legs tapering down to
Naked feet in neon pink flip flops,
Her toenails painted the same screaming color,
Chipped just here and there.
         The free flowin’ flutterby

Her throat gives voice to Croakspeak,
Like her words must first struggle against
Her sandpaper vocal chords
Before they stoke the spirit of her listeners.
Her camouflaged book bag shelters a worn
Wire-bound notebook, its cover flooded with
Inked revelations of a restless mind.
With her “eleventhfinger”, she scribbles her soul.
She teaches, inspires passion,
Word manipulation, unbound ideas, and raw hearts.
         The free flowin’ flutterby

Her freedom’s infectious.
Her wings warmly embrace;
Giving water and sunlight to
The wing-buds of the chained.
Her smile finds itself on your face.
Her eyes lock yours, intense, open.
They speak, and for that moment
         You’re free
         Free as the free
                   Free flowin’ flutterby


© Copyright 2003 Sarah Asia (sarahasia at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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