i

there seems a surfeit of little brown butterflies
as there is at this same time every year..
two encircled each other in great spirales
whether it was love or war remained unclear..
one sat as motionless as some green prehistoric
flesh
free of tentacle amid still to rest..

ii

given the approach of freedom said
how long do we then hesitate..
perched on god´ s open hand and
ruminate in the gentle breeze..
oh,so long captive but free
crashing at the lost and unseen
fly away into a greater freedom..