By Branson Neuman
Who killed the butterfly? With wings of gloss. Softer than the caustic moth We look in awe at the way it takes off. Free of chains. That bind and restrain We envy the butterfly. For humans are landlocked. Shocked and slack jawed.
Standoffish often we wake up with masks on. So who killed the butterfly? Was it you? Or me? Seeing success simply seething with jealousy. These are signs of the envy, We hate to see the butterfly fly. Because you and I? Are still cocooned in our current states of mind.