A Butterfly Dances

A whistle arrived before the wind, waving the red-wine grape leaves dressing the trellis of the balcony. The butterflies flipped their wings, once, twice… stretched their legs and crushed silence with expectancy. Then, the windblow was irresistible and the butterflies’ ballet began, weaving a mottled canopy. Dried yellow leaves whirls, sweeping dust from the ground, emulating the enticing swing. The entry door taps three times, the audience watches a pair of wings swaying with a lasting blue blur: music remains without the wind.