by Ralph Lynn Weld
I saw butterflies today, thumbing for a ride
by the side of the road, fidgeting and flitting
they couldn’t stand still on the way that led to the shore.
With tattooed circles and symbols, a secret tongue,
they wore tie-dyed things this wild bunch moving everywhere except straight forward, moving chaotic beauty.
Multi-colored pinwheels swirling, carousels turning rolling just looking for a nectar stand and later fly away
to sip sweet dew.
They hid in the weeds until morning.
And try again to fly a straight line
which everyone knows they cannot do
no matter which direction they choose some lives are meant to swirl.
I watched these rolling speckled hues,
these bright winged galaxies, huge
among the briars on the side of the road,
straining in the buffeting wind
the lucky few carried over the sea.