Butterflies
(my mind hath looked
upon the speaking face of earth and heaven
as her prime teacher......[Wordsworth])
I saw two butterflies wrapped in silent passion,
Her heart-shaped wings splayed flat against the sill
Her torso throbbing in anticipation...
Himself, hovering gently to hold her still.
I saw their sleek brown bodies tightly pressed,
His feet clinging to her lest the wind
Tear him away. I saw the shadows rest
Around them and the midday sun descend,
And still they lay outside my window pane...
I wondered why it is that we must rush
And why my timid touches are but vain
And useless gestures, why he must always crush
The urgings. Nature’s children seem to know
That love is best when cherished soft and slow
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