Grace, today I saw one of my dogs walk to sniff something. It was a butterfly on a rock in the sun drying its wings. It hadn’t been out of its cocoon very long because one wing was fully spread, the other was not. I picked Abby up, afraid she might try to bite it. Within a half hour the other wing was fully open. Both quivered. I wondered if the butterfly was cold. It was very warm outside. Moments later, off it flew up and off and above an oak then toward a flower.
This poem is lovely, very expressive and it reminded me of that butterfly. And how change is elating and scary and both all at once! And how without we never grow. Like Bowie’s song:
Great job, as always!
I have a long overdue response in my drafts for you. I hope I’ll get it out this weekend.