

The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing
against a white stone. . . .
Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly 'way up high.
It went away I'm sure because it wished to
kiss the world good-bye.
For seven weeks I've lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto.
But I have found what I love here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut branches in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.
That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don't live in here,
in the ghetto.
Don't forget about the Holocaust Museum of Houston's Butterfly Project... only about 4 weeks left to send your butterfly!
Thank you to my dear friend Susan of Polymer Clay Notes for pointing out this man's genius to me. I have mentioned that Susan was the one who encouraged me to initiate this blog which as of today consists of FOUR HUNDRED separate posts!
1 comment:
I have forwarded the project addy to my altered art club. I hope they will send in something. Not sure, but I know they are a caring and compassionate group of ladies.
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