The yellow ones
buttery soft
floating on tiny wings
hanging on new tendrils
Out of the corner of my eye
one rests and keeps me company

I’m sitting in the dirt
planting the garden up new

another sits to drink

I wash my naked feet

There are rainbows in the sunlight
and in the dirt under my nails

the brightness blinks through
my eyelashes damp

four summers ago
I suppose it was that long
that I didn’t watch the
butterflies
alone.