Here's a poem from "The Best Young Writers and Artists in America" (published by PUSH anthology). It caught my eye. I like it.
Architecture
Butterfly bones fill the spaces
between the walls
and sometimes
when it thunders
they rattle and I don't sleep.
I used the paper
lining of their wings
to make stained glass windows
so when the sun finally rises,
his face, next to mine,
becomes a mosaic.
-Corry Wallace
Sometimes I feel as if I am made of butterfly bones. Ever felt that way? Today, though, was not a day of butterfly bone frailty for which I am thankful. Today was a day of observation, and one thing I observed today was that the group of boys at the elementary school where I work remind me of "The Lord of the Flies". Need I say more? It is a bit of a scary thought actually.
On another note, I've also noticed I've been letting my mind wander more than usual lately. I've been letting it go to "off" mode quite a bit where I just space out and think of nothing. It annoys me. So, why do I do it? I have no idea.
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