Selfie
One madly posing
butterfly
determined for a selfie
brings my laugh
return
where all seemed gravel
underfoot vertigo
toes bunched
up the
fingers tense
keep a footing now I
lift the eyes almost
missed this
year’s jacaranda
purple bruises on
an old suburban apron
history’s errant thumb dipped
in juice too sweet for any
to resist life it’s
on the sly
move fast or miss
the passing
butterfly.
where will that thumb go next?
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