united flight

I stare out of the plane down at the patchwork quilt that is the ground
the horizon blends in with where the earth ends and the sky begins...
this world is massive and i am small and insignificant
i think about who i am and where i am going, do i deserve the breaks i have been given? the luck that i feel occasionally?
flying above the clouds it resembles fat that rises to the top of a pot of soup, so where's the giant ladle?

i am almost eye level with the man in the moon and he is as curious as i am, he asks "how's the weather down there?" and all i can do is shrug my shoulders and say "it's okay"

Monarch Melancoly

Do I really flutter from one person to the next? Drink in their sweet nectar and inhale their sultry colors of one rosebud after another? It's amazing how much others pay attention to how fast I flap my wings, when to me it goes unnoticed it's just apart of my daily routine.



Do I really need to wait before I eat again, what's the limit on how much I can indulge, if it pleases me, makes me fly higher then why would I have to hold back?



Do I really confuse those who watch me? Does it really make me look bad....I like roses, daisies, tulips, and pansies...poppies, dahlias, and dandelions....flower whore that I am , can I really help it if I am a Social Butterfly?