Butterfly Gardens

write please read and enjoy

Oh, to be a butterfly

flitting freely upon the sky

a flower bud or strawberry pie

to land on bones soaked in nectar, I

think of watching monarchs with a tired sigh

to be as simple as a butterfly…

 

No tail guns, no tracers

no fire or engines roaring by

no, just myself, my wings and I

no wingmen or aces, if I were a butterfly

no dogfights or air raid sirens, no warm scotch chasers

with flat beer, only the pollen trade that I would ply

no stale cigarettes, no cold coffee, no need to keep my humor wry

I would frolic in the sun, happy and dry

over so many flower fields with my own kind,

if I were a butterfly

 

No spirals of smoke and flames

no chains, broken glass or blood or names

no more would my fingers bleed for hours as I pry

desperate, hanging on every whisper for everything I try

no stench or thirst or hunger would bother me, if I were a butterfly

no fear or obligation would bind me, no desperation would make me vie

for a signal or a weapon to call for help or escape, I would kiss my life goodbye

and I would kiss the blood and sweat off of my cheek one last time, if I were but a butterfly.