You said you called them flutterbys
And I couldn’t help but smile –
As you held out your hand for their little wings
For them to stop and rest awhile.
You called a cat a ‘meow meow’
And I beamed in childish delight
As you stopped to stroke the ginger cat
On our way home, in the middle of the night.
You’re right they flutter, and the cats meow,
That’s how I knew that
I could spend all day in your sunset worlds.
Making up stories-
And laughing at our worries.
Now it’s you and me, and the flutterbys
Against the rest of the damn world.
Alicia Jones Poetry 