Delicate

It’s so gossamer, our freedom.
And it tears more winged each day. The enslavement
paves it over.
We thought our freedom was as sure and sweet
as Madeleines baked into a mold.
Just delicate moths, our freedom
in a boundless dark.

So let’s be porcelain with it.
Treasure it.
So red white and blue poppies will drench with it.
So our alphabet of this world will still be here.
I hope we will never be lost.

Nanette Rayman, poetry books, Shana Linda Pretty Pretty, Project: Butterflies, two-time Pushcart nominee, included in Best of the Net 2007, DZANC Best of the Web 2010, winner Glass Woman Prize. Publications: The Worcester Review, Sugar House Review (poem newpages.com), Stirring’s Steamiest Six, gargoyle, Berkeley Fiction Review, Editor’s Pick Green Silk Journal, chaparral, Pedestal, ditch, Wilderness House Literary Review, decomp, glass, Contemporary American Voices, featured poet at Up the Staircase Quarterly, Rain, Poetry & Disaster Society, Pedestal, DMQ, carte blanche, Oranges & Sardines, Sundog, Melusine.