Monday, April 4, 2011

Breathing in Butterflies

The eyes on the trees stare right back at me.




When I was young I used to think I was special, and the bushes and trees would talk to me and bow to me when i walked past and the cats and dogs trusted me because I showed them who I was through my eyes. I think I will always see things this way. Helping the worms cross the sidewalk. Watching the owl dance on the wall. Breathing in butterflies.

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