i was out in the field this morning
trimming the spent blooms
from the most beautiful flowers
i’ve ever grown, lisianthus &
larkspur in blues & the colors of sunrise,
when i fell over dead—
the honey bees & sulphur butterflies
scattered as my body in slow-motion
draped over the checkerboard white netting
holding up pink veronicas in perfect bloom.
as i landed, the butterflies settled in
around my edges like a screaming yellow outline,
settled on pink spikes, so silently—
silently, as only butterflies can do
~~~
