Her lids reconciled
Trying to taste the sweet tone of the wind
As it sang again for her
Running up across the dry meadows
She can smell the grass on her feet
The lake looks as though a blanket
Endlessly rolling tiny waves
"Where to?" Her heart wanted to ask
To the swinging ropes
She sat on the sturdy tire
She is colorless under the purple skies
She lost her balance like she did intend
Almost lying upside down
She felt the rush of blood go through her head
And found the trenches of goodbyes
Long kept in the clouds of twilight
Suddenly, tears in her eyes
Did you ever miss me?
Maybe a little
But not as much
Not like a firefly who lost her light
Maybe not a all


-Untitled, Margaret Austin Go

she leaves
everything
on a page,
all her sorrow,
her love
and her rage,
and I truly believe
she will write
herself free
of the jailers
who fastened
her cage.

Wind and dark the night I pine
stark the grasp of longing
branched and vined
blue mourning
deep in soul
an echo
calling

When through my fingers
your hand slips
taste of your
fleeting kiss
lingers
drifts

Paper winged
when torn, I stutter, stammer
spiraling and falling
only in dreams softly sweet
once more a butterfly
brilliantly winging