After we went out on Friday night
wolfed down a couple burgers
and an overabundance of Cuervo
I sat on Saturday’s morning porch
(more than just a little hungover;
certainly not hungry for breakfast)
I watched two bright blue gladiators
—a jay and an indigo bunting—
play Tug-O’-War over a caterpillar.
And when I was a kid, I saw a crow
on the treehouse window frame
gobbling down a Monarch butterfly:
two quick chomps was all it took;
the bug was gone but the wings,
apparently indigestible, remained.
I know there’s a lesson here somewhere
but I’m damned if I can figure it out.
Caterpillars become butterflies but, ummm…
Poets And Storytellers United
Weekly Scribble #73
~ Butterflies and Moths ~