Of Pixie Dust and Butterflies

Hello from this chilly fall morning! It is always a  real struggle getting out of a warm bed into the cold air, isn’t it? Wishing all of you people in this hemisphere a wonderful fall day! 

Tell me, little one, when you run outside to catch butterflies in your nets of flimsy string held together by sloppy knots all strung up on cheap plastic

As you slap this contraption down on top of those delicate wings

Tell me, child

Are broken butterflies still beautiful?

Did you ever see anyone stop

To painstakingly tie a splint to a broken butterfly wing

Or waiting patiently to coax an injured one onto a patch of flowers

While it fluttered weakly in their palm?

But I bet you’ve seen children, just like you

Stroking their wings with sense of awe

And laughing at the dust that clings to their fingertips.

Pixie dust, they shout happily as the now flightless butterfly

Struggles along the ground

Missing the sky.

But still they laugh

Gleeful in this new game that they have discovered

Where they can pretend to be Peter Pan

And Tinkerbell

And fly off to Neverland where they never have to get old

While simultaneously ending the life of another?

So tell me, oh child of mine.

Are broken butterflies still beautiful?


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Hey! Kalsooni Allskye here, sometimes known as Cattydragon. To introduce myself ... I'm generally a very sarcastic person prone to sudden musings in the middle of dull conversations as well as that mad dash for some paper and pen when a sudden idea hits. I enjoy a great deal of music and reading, but I don't so much enjoy social outing. So there you go! A bit 'bout me.

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