A Glimpse
This butterfly now flutters by
and, on each wing, a giant eye
conceals she is a fragile soul
darting about you as you stroll
while trees and shrubs whisper and sigh.
She flutters low, flutters high,
then settles on a salsify.
You stop and watch, getting to know
this butterfly.
What flower, though, can ever tie
her wings to Earth? When blossoms dry
and flowers fade and grasses grow
and birds give up their noisy show,
she’ll leave with the breezes of July—
this butterfly.
Comments
Miles, very charming rhyme
Regina
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Hi Regina. I appreciate your
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