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Butterfly’s Wish

By Charlotte Miles

Whoosh, whish

The cursed dove soars through the air,

her wings stained a shade of ashen gray.

Splash, splish

A knocked over inkwell drips into a puddle,

but nobody bothers to clean the spill.

Tap, tap, tap

The butterfly’s footsteps echo on the floor

as she stares up towards the cloudy sky.

Thump, thump, thump

Her heart beats with her last remaining wish

to soar like the dove or fall like the dripping ink

Swoosh, drip, drip

But her wish goes forever unfulfilled,

for her wings are long since torn away.


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