Where are the Butterflies? April 23, 2025

Gary Hunter
Apr 22
1 min read

we’re losing

the dance of powdered wings

nectar drunk

through a straw

the most fragile breaths

to ever create wonder

butterflies fly without

buzz, hum or whoosh

it is flight, knit of silence

and wish

rising up like a surprise

as kids squeal and give chase

if children’s arms had feathers

delight would lift them too

I miss seeing them

like I miss the child inside me

butterflies are the innocence

we once moved in

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