Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
We went to the butterfly park
I loved it, immediately entranced
With Buddhist iconography
“Don’t step on the butterflies,”
The receptionist said
With a totally straight face.
I know you don’t like flying things
But you came anyway
And it was too much
You had to leave
For fear of causing harm
So I went on with the other two
We saw silk parents
Atlas moths
Monarchs, the only monarchs I’m in awe of
A drying butterfly, just hatched
Flew from its case and
Clung to my leg
Rapt, I stayed
For another 20 minutes
Until it finally gave a single decisive flap
And joined its pals
In the tropical sweat-hot canopy.
You looked askance at me
You didn’t want to leave
You wanted it to be okay.
I grumbled half-heartedly
About the entrance fee
But I didn’t really give a shit about that
I just wanted you to buy me a beer.
I said it then
Looking in your eyes
I hope you heard:
We’re all brave in different ways
I will deal with butterflies
And spiders and cockroaches and
All the things that
Spike your fright and flight
You save me
Every day in a hundred different ways
We’re all brave in different ways.