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The Daughter Of Inachis

Poetry By: Chris Bradbury
Poetry



Out walking yesterday I saw so many butterflies dead at the roadside that I felt the occasional guilt of all car drivers (probably not), that we disrupt the world for our own sake without a second thought.
It then took me to the death of loved ones on the roads and the effect of seeing bodies over the years (one of which is described in Winter Hotel).
So I guess I'm anthopomorphising for the sake of art. God, I hope it works!


Submitted:Jul 18, 2013    Reads: 408    Comments: 37    Likes: 23   


I see the bright corpse

Of a peacock butterfly

Tattooed on tarmac

A rare sauna breeze

Gently tugs its dusty wings,

Disbelieving death

A short life cut short

By innocent fancy flight

To greener pastures

Someone somewhere cries

For loss of their butterfly

And their perished dreams





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