wind and rain, but I want to see if anymore monarch's have hatched this autumn day, and there, on the cyclamen, a butterfly fresh from it's chrysalis, swaying, wings closed, waiting still for the right time to go... how will it know? how will I?
Copyright © 2011 Kirsten Cliff
For the prompt used to write this poem, please go here.
|Photo (c) Kirsten Cliff 2011|