Thursday, July 1, 2010
I was in the garden this morning
and not one but two monarch butterflies appeared
they were dancing and drinking fruity drinks
from the flowers awaiting their arrival
and I was listening as you always should
when the winged marvels of nature appear
and one said to the other
"I miss you terribly"
the other just sort of carried on her
business of garden visits
and she said "I don't think you do."
The other approached her quietly
"I think of you every day a hundred times a day."
"I think of you, thinking of me."
The queen the color of a pumpkin couldn't believe
what she'd heard so she pretended not to hear him
and he would tell her a few more times
so that this courting ritual of one not trusting
flutter of this way and that
and the one so wanted to be trusted danced
and they danced and they danced
and I was witness to their love
when he kissed her the wind was so cool
I was certain the Gods of summer winds
and beautiful purple flowers
stopped and sat with me
in my garden
of mundane summer