Painted Lady Butterfly — Image by kenne
I gently rub
my beard
in deep thought
distracted only
by an occasional
butterfly
passing by
in the middle
of the day.
I savor
the moment
rubbing
white whiskers
navigating through
mind droppings
reaching out
to catch
a falling star.
The desert sky
bluer than the
bluest of blues
a backdrop to
sun-scalded red
creating visuals
turning to words
honed by the soul
itching to be scratched.
— kenne
Becoming is Superior to Being 
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