Butterfly
When I see a butterfly,
I think of you.
Not because you flutter
And onto other flowers move.
No, you are more steady
Than that,
A Gardner’s steady
In a wide brimmed hat.
Turning the soil
And amending where needed
So the butterflies will come
To the flowers seeded.
They know not the beauty
Of your touch.
Only the beauty
Of summer’s flower rush.
I think of you
When I see butterflies,
Fluttering up and around
Reaching for the bright blue sky
Then swooping back to your prepared ground.
.
.
For Beth
.
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