by Bruce Boston
Pinned upon a board
as if they are in midflight,
or still for a second
alighting on a broad leaf,
creatures born for flight,
trapped in a glass case
until they are discarded,
consigned to the dark
of some storage basement
for newer more exotic
and colorful specimens.
Only those now extinct
remain upon display,
valued for their rarity,
their colors fading
through the years,
one final testament
to their transience.