BUTTERFLY

6th March, 2018

It was the 6th of March, 2018.

Years without her,

and a nightmare,

now a little blurred.

As the little one grew up,

with shivering hands

she poured coffee into a cup.

The aroma filled the air.

Now,

she knows

nobody cares.

The mother,

who called her "Butterfly,"

was the real butterfly,

who spread her wings

and flew away.

Beneath the sky,

It lingered

like a cough.

Now,

separation surprises her less.

Familiarity,

after all,

always wins.

- Rushda