The glass is cold and the night is clear
I flew so far to be so near
Her eyes are closed and her breathing slow
I'll rest awhile and then I'll go.
As I view her sleeping there
The lights reflecting in her hair
She travels softly to the dawn
While snowflakes settle on the lawn.
Before she wakes I'll steal away
My Love's thirst slaked for one more day.
To be adrift when morning comes
Upon the breeze toward the sun.
The light streams through the window glass
I had not noticed time had passed
If I'm still she will not see
That on the mirror it is me.
The glass frosts as she dries her hair
She has not sensed my presence there
If she sees me before I die
She will see a lonely butterfly.
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Comments about this poem (Lonely Butterfly by Barry Hansen )
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