Graceful Exits

In my mind I hold the many children
That were friends and foes.
Like Peter, never-changing
They remain.
The vestigial shadows of last year’s flowers —
If I were to find them today:
Only the smell of damp earth.

Tiger Swallowtail


Summery day.
Butterflies aloft
drift down
to bask in
the root of the earth.
Gathering, an admiring rain
pools gossamer
over yellow wings.