out the corner of my eye
i nearly fail to see
the butterfly (a fleck of colour)
flutter spry
she struggles in erratic gale
a blossom hanging in the wind
her heart determined to fly
her gentle wings so frail
as though she’s trying to defy
the grayness of the day
the city dullness and the smog
that’s spreading high
but on the other side
this she well knows
a meadow shines
in whose embrace
she too can hide