The Butterflies are Flying South

[octaviusromulus]

If you let it,
this afternoon will rush
eagerly by.
Hushed and clear,
it hastens to its
golden end.
This kind of afternoon
tiptoes past with
padded paws,
tempting you to
skim its sheets,
to pass harmlessly
high overhead.

Take care then to stare.
Delve your eyes into
the depth of open air.
Somewhere in there
you can find the butterflies.

Pry open the moments
and watch them flutter by:
One, Two, Four, Nine -
Did you ever wonder why?
Why such a shy parade
of tiny painted ladies,
plying winds ten times their size,
would try to take
their hurried lives
three thousand miles south?
Like leaves given defiant souls,
they float through a seamless sky -
and you've arrested the insipid afternoon
to marvel at the butterfly.