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

~~~