listen to me:
let’s fly together again
next time around
(I keep seeing butterflies….
There they were at the bottom of the long hill—two big beautiful butterflies flitting and fluttering all around, catching my attention, then floating down to the ground with wings spread wide, side by side, tremoring softly softly, tenderly together, like old lovers.
“If there is life after the earth-life, will you come with me? Even then? Since we’re bound to be something why not together. Imagine!” These words open the poem, West Wind, by Mary Oliver.)
