Unsung
Their tiny lacy wings emerged
in vibrant hues from soft cocoons;
they felt an urge -- a lilting call
that fluttered in their veins. A source
of wonder waited, just beyond
the nearest wall... But soon the fears
crawled in on covert feet and spun
a web of doubt, so thick and strong.
And now the dust of skeletons
is all that's left to show of dreams
that could have soared in glorious flight
above a grey and mundane life.
From mounds of silence comes a sound --
the faintest puff of shallow air --
an iridescent note that seeks
the song to which it once belonged.
Copyright 2002 Laryalee Fraser
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