Poem: The First Butterflies

The First Butterflies

One day, on the trees
there were great buds
that drooped down,
hung there, strange,
not like other buds
but that is what
it must have been,
and they knew
buds could blossom
or were these fruit
that would ripen?

They watched,
each day waited
to see what
would grow,
but when the flowers
which broke free
flew off to the sky,
how would anyone feel
knowing such a moment?

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