The Butterfly

By Gayathri P S

I could slide across that field,

Happy, beautiful and content,

Singing how sweet it was,

Enjoying my simple rest on a flower.

I cannot but ignore the chill in the air,

I flutter my wings but

The coldness chokes my breath,

And stiffens my wings.

The green earth turns yellow, then brown.

“Yellow is my happy cheer,”

I flutter and bounce across the meadows,

I don't mind that they don’t flower as much.

I’m awakened after a light nap

Into a morning of grey skies and frosty dew

I wish I could enfold myself in a sheath

Take cover in my own warm embrace.

I try to smile and remember the field of flowers

Where I was loved and once lived

Without blame or a care,

Always working, always cheerful.

By Gayathri P S