The Butterfly

At times, she felt as a butterfly.

Delicate, with a fancy being pulled
to every nodding flower. To alight
on new beauty,
experience their essence,
their life sweetness sustaining her, until,
barely enjoyed to the extreme, she beat fragile wing.

Vanishing as silently as she settled.

Leaving the flower, open faced, curious.
Wondering, in the breeze, if such subtlety would ever be savored again.