For Grammaw

With wings of saffron

and tiger stripes,

flittering,

fluttering,

fidgeting upon the flower tops.

Or wings of Sedona sunsets

splotched with starlight freckles.

They shimmer in summer's glow.

Flittering,

fluttering,

flying among the treetops.

And those like ravens' wings,

trimmed with sapphires -

but fragile paper wings -

flittering,

fluttering,

fading by summer's end.

And as winter comes, we'll miss you.

Each day, the longing grows

for the freedom of flight

brought by your wings...

those angel's wings...

until in spring, they take flight anew.

Their wings bring back your memory:

flittering...

fluttering...

fleeting, yet familiar

as they dance among the flowers -

none as beautiful as you.