In a house of butterflies
It was so warm and damp I thought it should rain
But all the clouds were beyond the glass,
The sky covered with the hue of dark cream.
Here in the electrified tropic I stood
Surrounded by silent, flapping wings,
Facades of tree bark opened to blue or yellow
Glowing against the drab pebbled concrete at my feet.
Slow and silent,
It was only by faith I knew one landed on my hair
Like paper so thin the oil on my fingers would ruin it.
I waved my hand and felt only the zephyr I made
Until a tickle on my scalp revealed more
than my wave had made.
I turned and saw a butterfly by my knee.
Drifting through the air as a leaf floats on water
Perhaps it's cheesy and sentimental but I wanted to see if I could capture the delicacy of the moment. This is a bit unusual for me in the last few years in that this is free verse rather than structured poetry.