See What I'm Made Of?
The lights twinkle
And I am different
Under this new moon.
It takes some getting used to.
While the grass grows
Around my potted ferns.
And rings rise on
My crowned garden tree.
I am not the same.
Like the butterfly knows.
I’m more apt to perch
on the edge of sensibility.
See what I’m made of?
Feathery wings and moonlight.
Sky morning dewdrops.
Tears of a gentle nature.
Shelley Rae Bell
