And Be with Caution Bold

I dreamed my moth-winged soul — 

all splutter-smogged, all dirt and thought —

lit close to a thistle’s eye.

I dreamed a butterfly — all color, rainbow, shine,
two silken circles on her wings —
fluttered by.

I dreamed we danced flamenco on the wind,
flaunting laughter-flight and laced 

escalloped lines of flame-desire.

I dreamed we flew all curious and curlicue,

rose skyward on such fist-warm air,

wing-twisted with each other into blue.

Oh, my tangled soul!

I'll forget my wounded deeds.

I’ll forget my wing-
broke dreams.