Saturday, June 18, 2016


Right before my eyes 
in the morning sun 
a pale brown chip of wood,
or maybe it's a leaf,
tilts in the breeze
folding itself in half 
slowly opening 
and folding again 
until suddenly it
lifts into the air 
and flies away
a butterfly unseen. 

And now transformed my eyes see
clearly the beauty 
for what it really is
— a metamorphosis of vision. 

No comments:

Post a Comment