Good Year for Monarchs
- butterflies, that is -
those with crowned heads? -
not sure their year is much good.
These butterflies,
holding all eyes,
generating smiles -
nifty flying, lightly
alighting, brightly
lit against verdure -
but can I be sure
that beyond this park
and nearby river bank
wide-winged Monarchs flourish
as they so do here today?
Locally, then, their December
is bright. She could tell me,
my sister, once 'Butterfly queen
of West Auckland', their habits,
their diet (swan-plant, as I recall),
their prospects, short-term
as individuals, long-term
as a thriving species -
which survives partly by tasting
nasty to predators.
But Gwenda succumbed
to the Great Predator
a few butterfly seasons back,
leaving me guessing
and grieving, and touched
when the Monarchs flutter
out of our past into now.
Haven't we all heard tell
the Greek word psyche
means both butterfly and soul?
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