Butterfly blessing

Mourning Cloak, brushfooted,
comes to my outstretched hand;
tremulous
we regard each the other,
while your eyelash feet explore
the whirlpools
of my fingertips.
I love the drama of your wings:
yellow-rimmed cape,
blue stipple sublimely set,
the way you rise to circle
and return
stepping to the trembling palm
I offer you
What's left to say but amen.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...