No one believes me when I tell them
I am writing a book about butterflies,
even though they see me with the Childcraft encyclopedia
heavy on my lap opened to the pages where
the monarch, painted lady, giant swallowtail and
queen butterflies live. Even one called a buckeye.
When I write the first words
Wings of a butterfly whisper . . .
no one believes a whole book could ever come
from something as simple as
butterflies that don’t even, my brother says,
live that long.
But on paper, things can live forever.
On paper, a butterfly
never dies.