February, in a place where there is no time
but to waste

you, two young soldiers kept at bay
by a raggedy county tax funded white veil

there, between the cold and the colder concrete bed
lays a baby butterfly

ready to take flight, transforming, shaking off its earth,rising from its origin towards the hand of God

i envied your horizontal stance

but from my wretched vertical position

winced at what might have been your life
a supernova worm
before a thousand suns and so many many other moons
rivers crossed and coins spent

but wings are in their stead

mercy tipped love arrow and light
cleansing, beautiful,wondrous light
no more ripping of your worm cloak

like such

i, still in my lateral hoax left to rot

for summers more
good bye, good bye, good bye