The Smallest Butterfly

The Smallest Butterfly



She makes herself small to hide

from what has become her life;

a butterfly among the sons of Anak.

Everything is so much bigger than she,

and the fears that burn within

become a wildfire spreading outward

and seek to ignite her

withering effete wings

and leave her flightless,

hiding among the smoke and ash

where she lies holding her breath.


On braver days she rises up,

only to discover

the more she explores

the smaller she gets,

until she finds herself curled up,

childlike,

beneath the nearest friendly tree.

I saw her sleeping in the rain

with a limb near at hand,

because she knows one day it will

never stop.

She waits for it to wash her away.



She stuggles daily to endure

the countless insidious doubts

that grab and pull at her quicksand life.

The drudgery has stolen her passion

and left her praying for strength to

just breathe.

Her stridulous scream

finds no ear to jar.

She uses lovers like cigarettes

to fill the malignant moments,

each one leaving her more addicted,

more breathless,

and more powerless than the last.



The harshest years have proven impossible

for her to reconcile.

I once heard her say an abhorrent past

sets in place an unhopeful future.

In time maybe she will decide her tomorrows

are best decided by what she wants

and not what she has already seen.

My greatest fear is of her finding

she might more easily stop the rain