Trust the Poem

a verse of serendipity

Image courtesy of Tracy Price

I write the words on the wing
of a butterfly flapping rings
around the world, speak them through
sliding doors I always miss
as the train zips, rushed away, they
exit two stops down, tucked into a purse
pocket, plucked out weeks later
with a tissue and tumble
down, sidewalk bound, to be tripped
over, kicked like a curb, rolling
tumbleweeds with autumn leaves,
until the words, catching the eye
of a…