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
artisanalwanderer 