Butterfly Escort by Sam Flot

Butterfly Escort

I stumbled in the pre-dawn and

Remembered in the aftermath

As the sequences waterfalled

Like butterflies knuckleball or flutter

Over picnics and clovers and camps full of clutter

Winding through the air above the pasture pure

To the edge of the forest

Passing pine cones and pine needles

As if they were lost in the wee hours of dark

 As the songbirds release their songs on a lark

In the morning’s first recognition of the day

Remembering how to ride a bicycle

After seemingly having learned so much

The day before

So many things I’ve learned and learned before

Retroactively pursuing the journey prize of a butterfly escort

7.10.2014

sf                 CFR