Going on a date with my man
and as I close the door behind me
what catches my eyes in front of me
is a beautiful orange butterfly
moving up and down the
trampoline over the fence with the net.
Less up and down, bouncing is for kids,
up and against.
Look at that butterfly honey, it's trapped,
fixing my eyes on the wings,
my feet planted on the step.
My man, elongating my arm as I stick upstairs,
heads downstairs asking
how is it stuck?
It got in on it's own
and that net won't keep it, nets are for kids.
Our fingers slip apart,
my man downstairs waits.
Me on the ledge, is that even a butterfly,
or a moth?