Butterflies dipped, drank,
stroked avalanche of blooms
to feed;
105
Milkweed
South Meadow
104
For days I lay there, drugged amidst the blooming milkweed,
where butterflies rode perfumed thermals for the joy of flight.
I nestled like a deer in the shining grass and could not leave.
While bees foraged in their urgent work, barging with greed
into indolent globes of milky blooms, Victorian pink and white,
for days I lay there, drugged amidst the blooming milkweed.
I stepped through summer’s shimmer, orange jolts of hawkweed,
crisp currents of blueberries under foot, sweet fern, knee height.
I nestled like a deer in the shining grass and could not leave.
Mornings in my darkened cabin, I woke to days eclipsed of need,
pillow glancing toward dawn’s fingers, streaking golden delight.
For days I lay there, drugged amidst the blooming milkweed.
Butterflies dipped, drank, stroked avalanche of blooms to feed;
a chase, a flutter, a cascade of gauze wings leaping out of sight.
I nestled like a deer in the shining grass and could not leave.
Waking from a dream, happiness flooded, my Beloved held me,
our bodies merged like butterflies, only meadow filled my sight.
For days I lay there, drugged amidst the blooming milkweed.
I nestled like a deer in the shining grass and could not leave.
I s l and Meadow
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