on the inside
of my bedroom window
near Mt Vernon, Illinois
at 5.00 a.m. way back in ‘82.
BUTTERFLY
am I just a
pub-crawling butterfly
pollen-sozzled in the dazzle world
of infinite transient flowerdom
flitting in poiseworthy
playful mastery
with eyes for wings
sometimes glad of sunlight
swooping with crescendo silence
nectaring my days away
and leaving in my wake
a litany of colors
unconcerned for time
blending a blinding
eye-transcendent wing-speed
with careless summer doziness
about direction
who can dream me a
being more all round
infinite in beauty
than this drunk with joy
utterance of God
reveling in its finite
casual glory
caught by sunlight fluttering
on the storm's brink
almost conscious that each moment
is eternal
and seeming to be almost proud
of being no more tomorrow
CATERPILLAR
thoughts on weeding
the caterpillar
chews and chews
deliberately
on greens and blues
does he with joy
accept his fate
a munching, crawling,
stalk-bound state
or does he in
the dark of night
dream of the ecstasy
of flight
till from his tomb
like Egypt's kings
he soars on silent
cosmic wings
and nectar unconceived
before
sips from a brief
ambrosial straw?
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