Butterfly Thumbnails

Today I rushed to the bus and plopped down in a seat. I quickly clued in on the man who sat in front of me. He had glasses and the collar peeping from his sweater was plaid. Hellooo
There was a book yawning open in his lap so I stealthily leaned over to see what it was (I always try to see what people are reading on the bus. sometimes I'll attempt a conversation if I've read the book as well, but this rarely goes well).
The pages were glossy and filled with brightly colored thumbnails of butterfly wings. Of course I quietly gasped.
This was about the time he lifted his hand to scratch his face and a gold wedding band winked back at me. Goddamnit.


Leaves

Miles high wind nudges her bark
covered ant scampered ladder back
& forth, back & forth. She breathes
in the rain cloud she sees squatting,
waterlogged, on the top of
a distant roiling hill.

Blades wait far below, jade, pointed
upward, their individual edges
blurred together from her distance.
The nestle of leaves rubbing bodies
against each other rattles around her.
She wraps a hand tighter around
the slim flakey trunk and moves her
feet. Scrapes further out on a branch.

Wind nudges the swollen cloud closer.
The rain pities its way down
pops, a laugh, as each drop slaps
the leaves. It’s pattering sharp
giggles that bubble all around her
speeding up as the cloud yawns
its mouth open wider & wider.

Like a suffocated owl, damp
feathers smothered in the winds
moist breath, she steps back from
the branch & tries to hug the weak
trunk. Her wide darkmoon eyes search
for you, forgetting you’d climbed
back down yesterday.