lies in wait –
The thick Miscanthus
It’s habit to cascade
The robust slender blades
Dark with envy and razor thin midribs,
Soon to yield pink plumes,
Now feathered silver in the early morning light.
A brilliant marigold flash with velvet black veins,
A first-rate winged dandy,
Frolicks about Aster, Goldenrod, and Bee Balm.
The summer’s socialite,
A well mannered flirt, whispering amorous secrets
From the tended Stonecrop to Snapdragon.
Playing in the Hollyhocks.
Hypnotic, tomcat eyes spiral,
Bedeviled by butterfly’s coquetry.
Tail twitches to spar,
Haunches quiver hoping for a rub of green,
Butterfly catcher, springs upward
In one athletic leap steals the sweet sight,
Surreptitiously snagging the soul of the flowered garden.
On a pale, blue, pillowed case
Butterfly lies in wake of the abduction.
A precious prize bestowed to me following a late morning rising.
Wings blink in blind faith,
As I gingerly mind the totem of transformation to the open window.
I am a child letting go, gladdened to manifest
Butterfly’s exult to freedom.