by Thomas Davis
In Southern Door an aging man, face fixed,
Pulled up beside a country road and walked
Toward a wooden fence where milkweed mixed
With grass and weeds, fall’s fiery colors stalked
Into a forest’s weave of summer green,
The season’s changing edged into the day.
Beside the fence the man bent down, serene,
Intent on picking milkweed pods, a fey
Gleam in his eyes. He got into his car
And drove until he found an empty field,
Stopped, pulled a pod out of a mason jar,
And freed milk fluff into a wind that wheeled
Time through the winter to a glorious spring
That sprung a summer graced with monarch wings.
Note: After reading an editorial by Peter Devlin in the Door County Advocate.
3 responses to “Planting the Wings of Monarch Butterflies”
A lovely idea, and then well executed. To the future and to new life.
I love this, Thomas! To the man (real or fictitious) I bow. What a loving gesture to the future – to the Monarchs.
Thomas, just stopping by to read this again – still loving it!