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Parched beauty of

Butterfly leaves
Burned crisp under
The summer sun
Crackling under
Muddy footprints
All memory of
Moisture coaxed out
Of them by harsh
Unforgiving
Rays of fire
Remembering
Drifting down slow
Reminiscing
Mother Earth’s open
Arms, almost close
Enough to caress,
Falling into
Love with
Deception, lies
Yet their beauty,
Their elegance,
And the charm of
What once was
Lingers softly
In their midst
Dissolving
Into them, their
Being.