I saw it sitting on an old pickup tire,
a butterfly
with sugar on its wings,
as we were wading
through weeds
up to our waists,
brushing our hands
on dandelions
turning our palms yellow,
breathing in sunshine,
climbing an abandoned tractor
in the field
to play—
maybe all afternoon,
maybe all summer.
It was gone
when we headed back
to watch Grandma feed the pigs,
and the dogs
lounging in the dirt
by the porch,
and to dunk our bread
into broth,
and bite into dark juicy plums.
And later,
I thought I saw it
from the window,
on the barn door
near where I had pulled off my boots
to climb a tree
and saw it watching me,
a butterfly
with sugar on my wings.
© 2024 Jennifer Wagner
Hi Jennifer,
ReplyDeleteJust blown away by your poem, wow. I kept my eye on that butterfly and at the end, it did not disappoint. This is poetry. That reflection, that metaphor, that ephemerality that characterizes youth, its sensations, its simple precious joys, you eyeing the butterfly, the butterfly eyeing you, just pure genius. If you couldn't tell already, I love this poem. This one will stay with me a while. Thanks for joining in the prompt.
images crisp as tart apples, Jen . good to read you ~ M
ReplyDeleteGossamer this weave of rapt childhood -- like cotton candy on a summer stick.
ReplyDeleteSummerland indeed! I'm with Dora, this is poetry, but then, yours always are. Every time I visit here, I leave feeling like my day just got better.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and whimsical. Wonderfully captures the essence of childhood and long summer days! It’s perfect.
ReplyDeleteYou've captured the ethereal quality of time passing beautifully.
ReplyDeleteWading through weeds, climbing on abandoned tractor, biting into a dark juicy plum...your poem of a child's summerland delights the senses!
ReplyDelete"with sugar on my wings" , this one's magical. :)
ReplyDeleteI really love how you came back to the butterfly in the end... what a wonderful unique image.
ReplyDelete"with sugar on my wings" - a fairy tale of a poem. Beautiful!
ReplyDelete