Golden shimmers upon dragons glimpse
Secrets spread in wild fringe
The air holds the names of battles, grim
Where illusions stir us from our skins
Cradled in the world that churns us in
The skeletal remains of our chagrin
Trapped in cage of ribs
The butterflies flitter away our whims
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 
Like this one Matt – the way it explores memory, transformation – the movement from trauma to release
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Thanks. Interesting to see other people’s interpretation of the things we write.
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Yes it is – thank goodness we are all wired differently 😃
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“Where illusions stir us from our skins”
I love this line, Matt!
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Thanks!
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