The Dancing Butterfly

The monster sits in the shade under the trees waiting, shadowed by the 
dancing butterfly. 
The butterfly, shimmering, shining, and calm. 
There is music. 
Music like a fire driving a horse broken by ropes. 
Those flying ropes were trouble. 
Trouble held in the hands of trash wearing shoes, jeans, and a belt. 
This horse's happiness was reflected in it's watchful, tired eyes. 
This horse has been saddened and changed. 
Changed by the smiling animalistic fear created by the trash dragging a table 
cloth. 
This horse was once motivated by the simple tumbling shrubs, the 
non-existent gate. 
The rocks beckoned this horse to come out and play in the dull red castles. 
The castles that stood royal and prestigious under a swirled blue sky. 
Ever since sadness overcame that horse, he has been scared to look. 
To look beyond the steaming pavement and the sleepy cacti flowers. 
His sleepy spirit used to be free. 
It used to be bright, laughing, and always close to the sand. 
The land was musical and beautiful. 
Even the sky began crying every time it saw the beauty. 
Unbeknownst to the trash, disappointment overcame this horse when it saw 
the wandering dog. 
The dog outside of the fence with the unbroken spirit. 
Unbeknownst to the horse, this dog was bored with hiding from the coyotes 
and the snakes. 
The dog saw the horse every day, standing, waiting, crying. 
And everyday the horse saw the dog, running, moving, flowing. 
And everyday the horse and the dog saw the trash, cooking on his stove, 
reading to attempt an education, playing his guitar. 
The dog and the horse mirrored each other. 
The horse wanted out. 
The dog wanted in. 
The horse, the dog, and the trash look at each other. 
There's a tear. 
Just wait for the snow, it's like a blanket for the hard times. 
It makes you feel like you belong somewhere. 
Just wait for the snow, it comforts everyone. 
The monster sits in the shade under the trees waiting, shadowed by the 
dancing butterfly.