a butterfly backpack glows
aquamarine, upright
on the centerline of Tharpe Street
empty, illuminated
by the orange cream dusk at one end of the road
against purple green nightfall at the other
I watch it shrink in the rearview mirror
a butterfly backpack glows
aquamarine, upright
on the centerline of Tharpe Street
empty, illuminated
by the orange cream dusk at one end of the road
against purple green nightfall at the other
I watch it shrink in the rearview mirror