Eliza Wyatt

a gorgeous butterfly bursts in my heart
			       
                                             on a rainy day
			        
                                             on train tracks that lead her away


from a horse that rears, struck through
			        
                                            going in the wrong direction for

meetings


sketched in dirty water, I side-mirror her
			       
                                           look again for a second-long

vision
			        
                                           of blood red sun yellow tumbling
over this chain-locked dog
 			        
                                           ankles splashed with mud
		                   
                                          bicycling fast in the direction of
love

Flights, Issue Seven, December 2022