the butterfly has been spread
too thinly over the dry crust of earth
the days spent in northern skies
run too many and over flow
into swimming holes children know
breezes dance on buzzing ears
and lash their whispery whips
calling out their every name
in every cell in every hive
"sip, sip, sip to stay alive"
echoes sail in with those winds
that carry the icy north touch
to raise the hair on sunburned arms
and rouse the reaping hands
those echoes from frozen lands
mornings beg for sun kissed dawn
as shadows still the breath in chill
fruit pulls from exhausted vines
and trees nod in early eves
knowing green will drain from leaves
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