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The Butterfly
May 12, 2014
I sit on the park bench,
People walking all around me
Smiles on their faces,
Suddenly.
A blur of bright pastel colors,
Wings.
Coming straight towards me
Like dementors
hungry for my innocent soul
Death.
The antennas plunging towards me like needles
The fast moving bodies headed for me
I scream and run
Frantic.
It lands on my back, scratching me
Then my shoulder,
Then my nose
So I sit,
Motionless
Looking death
Straight in the face.
© Amanda S., Phoenix, AZ
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