Chasing Butterflies

I chased butterflies, silken net in hand.
Hurdled Queen Anne’s Lace and Periwinkle
I remember¬Ö

Colorful wind surfer on delicate wings.
With dexterity and perfect aim,
I shroud a patch of red clover.

Sister, an older butterfly hunter,
her invitation for my assistance
makes my effort bolder.

Final task at hand tears my virgin heart
Panic. Hesitate. Sister eyes watching.
My courage returns.

I cloak and fold her tomb of white silk.
Cotton poison kiss for eternal sleep.
Wing pulse slows, then ends.

The beauty is gone, enchantment ended.
Golden powder clings to each finger.
Ugly dusting. Accusing stain.

A glorious life I wipe from my hands
on the clean wet grass to erase my guilt.

But it stayed.

Todays best new poem was written by Carrie Ryman.

 

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