Butterfly Language

If my words
were
butterflies

I think
I could catch
them
easily

display them
on this
glass stand
for you

to ponder

the delicate armature
of my wings
my feathered
belly

my lithe body
nailed
and shuddering

But moths fly
only
under radar

of shadow
of camouflage
and twilight

They wait
anxious
for the relief
of breeze

un-nailed
void
and free

of beauty
of poetry
of monarchs

and a butterfly
language

They glint
unremarkable

drinking
moonlight

© 2010-2025 Chenda Duong

Note: "We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty."

— Maya Angelou