My wheels go clunk…clunk

there is no running
of bare feet touching grass
no climbing steps on ladders
her legs are metal circular wheels

food is cut minutely
so it just fits in her mouth
her hands are not controlled
she cannot hold a spoon or knife

her voice is often slurred
as she tries to conquer words
wants others to understand
the strain upon her face, most evident

she is a butterfly,
within her heart within her mind,
that soars into the skies, some
will simply fly higher

and some, will not take flight
but there is beauty
in each and every one of them
each one’s a butterfly

Poetics:  Written for Fred Rutherford’s  prompt  on Beauty is everywhere in anything…

For the wonderful DVerse.