Three days ago I let my butterflies go.
My morning walks have been busy
Crows, for instance
make me nervous now
and I try not to think about
one of my five
being in their bellies.
holding the sunset in their petals
make me wonder if
they share some mutual friends
They came from very little,
my five butterflies.
They were crawling, as big as black lint
when they came to me
that even when they broke through their own skin
grew wings and soared
I worried they might find the world too big.
a swish of bright orange flew by
and lingered just long enough
as if to remind me
You, as always, are in the business
of growing everything
out of nothing.
— I may have known that one orange butterfly