Angel feathers, dandelion fluff, the first few flakes of snow on an autumn day.
Airy stuff.
Insubstantial as bird call.
Strong as wind.
They have a way of changing everything
even though they do not stay.
They say, the world you see
evanesces,
floats away
on any passing breeze,
saturates and dissolves in a raindrop.
Stops. Making you wonder
if it ever existed at all.
Real is nothing you can hold in your hand.
Life is nothing you can hold in your hand.
Trying makes it melt.
Like the first few flakes of snow on an autumn day.
Like dandelion fluff drifted away.
Like angel feathers conjured and lost.

One thought on “Untitled by Ruth Ann Dandrea

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