I used to
capture butterflies
in the winter
and they were
very beautiful
vibrant colors
blinding beauty
I remember the softness
of their silky wings
upon my finger tips
they hummed
and smiled while
a serene yellow
January Sun
shun on my face
and I kissed them
tenderly until
they flew away
before the dawn
of another spring
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem