The Story of Butter

Prisoner of a suburban lawn

It clings with spindly arms

Deafening silence defining it’s immobility

The butterfly waits

Papery black wings loosely attached to a quivering pipe cleaner of a body

Losing strength, it watches

Expecting fate’s hand to restore him to his freedom

Setting him loose to flutter through breezes

Instead life evades him

The world passes, as he remains in crushing stillness

Soft hands cup around this forgotten soul

Cradling and stroking the fragile orange speckled wings

A child’s freckled nose appears in the butterflies face

Loud and excited words jump from it’s mouth

The butterfly holds on tight as his sweaty platform shifts

Butter, the forgotten, three winged butterfly was named

His grip steadied as the child whimsically held it up in front of the world

Life had changed

Only for a moment

That was all he had needed

When he departed to fly

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