flutter

a poem about that small tiny space of hope that exists even after horrific events

small unknown fluttering
leading down obscured path
through half drunk shapes
and moons and clouds

tiny flutter
that gives breeze
breath to
the tiny cramped space

gives nourishment to tiny
seed buried beneath
heaps of burdenous
dirt
piles of heavy caked
mud

dips water into the
malnourished,
shriveled
brown piece
of unknown existence,
unknown origin,
deprived of all thought,
all hope,
sucking up any drop of water encountered
in the vast desert of the tiny
cell that imprisoned it.

tiny speck waiting

waiting

till the day the water could come running in.