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Apr 2012
It’s come to this
Metaphorically speaking
I need it
I need the playground to become a calm emerald sea
And the Monarchs to become sailboats idling their time away
I need them to light upon my finger
To be carried away into the delight of my daughters eyes
To trust us
We want to be entertained
We want a memory to exist
But they fly away as we approach
Yet one stayed
So close
We touched
Raw nerved
And then
It sailed away
We were so disappointed
We wanted them to know us
To know we understood them
So we could join them
And dance among the flowers
With a past that was shed
And become sailboats
Floating
On calm green sea
Just my daughter and me
Mark Lecuona
Written by
Mark Lecuona
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