gynandromorph
even when the fool’s spring gets you
with its gold and grand reminder
of tomorrow’s eternal oblivion,
if not a shred remains of that tattered
ego to ease the ground and gravel stain
just know
butterflies born with uneven wings
may not be long
for this world but
they are so rare
collectors spend lifetimes in the muck
and wild wondering when
in awe of how
you could ever have been at all
A page from Poetry-Journal.com:

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gynandromorph
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