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In a wildflower
garden
there lived a
cocooned creature
who hatched, grew
tall,
and produced feet, 6
in all.
And wings,
oh such wings.
But who can fly
when you've only been
taught to crawl?
The butterflies were
beautiful,
floating from marigolds
to phlox,
but she was no
butterfly—
she’d heard them
talk.
So she waited,
said creature,
for the last quarter
moon,
and then whispered to
it, “what must I do?”
The moon answered
with glitter and
white
when on the
moonflower
it shone its light—
she knew then she was
made
just right;
some things are meant
to temper the night.
© 2013 Jennifer
Wagner
At dVerse Poetics we are
writing poems for kids. I went with message
and the natural world. Moonflowers pop
open at night and are pollinated by moths.