A flutter of small butterflys
fly outside my window-
a swirl of orange.
Funny, it is early December.
I enter my room
as if I am walking
into a painting
of bright colours,tiles-
flowers smile.
Petals float, suspended,
in this tilted perspective.
Two glasses,sparkling,on a piano.
The notes play themselves.
Rhythm expands.
I dance with it.
My arms stretch
from a summers sleep.
Beads on bracelets click.
Hair sweeps through the air.
Yes, I accept your invitation.
Funny, how I feel
the ocean's spray
on this cold winter's day.

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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