A rush of starlings past
a tall birch, dry leaves prattling
to the stark September sky,
a road with filtered light,
a golf ball in an asphalt pot-hole;
a white butterfly, a leash and
this little dog who pulls
me out of myself.
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Lyrical Intervention
margaretmaryjoyce 
Love this poem for its simplicity, meaningful images and, as always, magical word juxtapositions.
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Hi Marilyn, Thank you for your kind words!! I wish I could have done more with that ’emerging from cocoon’ idea, but I’m pleased that you felt it ‘worked’/ hung together ok,, as is. :))
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