Butterfly Poem, cica 1990’s

Photo by Wibowo Djatmiko, a Wikipedia contributor.


tiny yellow butterfly left traces of itself on my windshield


tiny yellow butterfly

floating, flitting, fanning by

freely frolicks in the sun


against my windshield

yellow powder came undone

talcum on the glass window

powdered shield – I feel so low

yellow dust from tiny wings

tells a tale on speeding things

tempered glass and stainless steel

cruising in my death mobile


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  1. I always feel guilty about hitting butterflies and bees and dragonflies. They’re just out doing their daily grocery shopping, and bang. I have to admit I take perverse pleasure in nailing a swarm of mosquitos, though. Guess I get a little defensive when I’m the “groceries”. 🙂

    • Yes, this poem was based on a true story. I was verklempt. The only bugs I wish death on are flies. My fear of them borders on phobia.


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