Bright and Orange

You know you are growing older
when friendships seem to be
butterflies flying to the south
for the harsh cold winter
of your heart.

What were once bright orange
and full of life and laughter
now fly away from thee,
and you can pretend to look away no longer.
Remember when you laid under the stars with me?
We talked and we talked
and there was still a remnant
of the trail of tears that were pouring out of your face
two hours ago.

Now you are in the south
basking in the heat
and here I am looking for an egg or two
to nurture and keep,
perhaps one day you all will return to me,
bright and orange butterfly dreams.
I will remember thee.