The Monarchs Thanks
As the rain falls heavily, a Monarch struggles to the edge of my porch.
Landing on the ledge with no strength, I stare.
I walk closer to the worn out Monarch.
Its wings still spread open.
The butterfly raises its head to me.
A rain drop falls causing the antennas to wilt to the sides of its face.
Giving the illusion of tears as they fall.
I shelter the crying Monarch, and watch as it makes a slow recovery.
It drys and flaps its wings.
Never taking its eyes off me.
I smile, and the butterfly glides onto my nose.
Staring into my eyes, then spreads its wings tickling my cheeks.
The antennas of the butterfly rise, and it flew off into the rainbow lite sky.
The crying Monarch no longer cries.