it was a hot afternoon.
the callous sun cast
my shrunken shadow on the ground-
a sad solitary figure.
something caught my eye.
amidst the heap of dried grey leaves
was a shocking electric blue...
i bent down to take a closer look
it was a butterfly - not a single stir.
very gently, i cradled it in my hands-
still, a cold unmoving picture.
pretty blue butterfly-
pressed between the pages,
of my old Oxford Dictonary.
soon, the amazing blue faded
while the spatter of red on the pages
grew
day by day
outside the window,
the clouds continue to drift
the sun continues to shine
in the honey warm breeze.
