A free verse poem about my wife seeing a butterfly in January. |
Working in the backyard pruning the rose bushes and the crape myrtle, Linda, my lovely wife, thought about Rusty, our fifteen-year-old Corgi that we had put to sleep two days before. Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks as she felt the grief anew. Memories of Rusty flooded her mind. As she paused to quell her emotions, a yellow butterfly appeared and danced in the air all around her, as though trying to interact with her. Linda loves butterflies and looks forward to warm springtime weather when they return to our yard, but this was January, and we had just had a week of hard frosts, frigid nights. As she watched the butterfly fluttering around her, her mind was overtaken by wonderment. Then she felt a calm settle over her, as though this butterfly was a sign sent to reassure her that Rusty was at peace in a better place. Her tears stopped, and she smiled. The yellow butterfly flew up and over the fence, not to be seen again. A butterfly out of season in the dead of winter may have a natural explanation … but I prefer to think it doesn’t. Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |