I was out for a run
down Portland Ave
and a Monarch
fell into step with me
flapping her wings
as I leveled straight,
pacing for a few
brief-to-me steps.
At first I considered
she’d find
a sweet petaled oasis
bubbling with nectar,
(as my own sweat met
my panting mouth)
she persevered
for fifty more miles
while I rounded
a soft-edged corner
to the flower
I happen to call
Home and
I cracked open
a beer:
a toast to the wild ways
of the butterfly–
may you arrive
joyous and humble
at your destination


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