Float like a Butterfly, Sting like a Book

oil on canvas, c. 2022

the tree sways in the wind,
leaves drift left and right,
downward and downward,
baby rocking in mother’s arms,
lower and lower

do you see the leaves blow open
and can you read the words
on the pages fluttering beneath the branches?
I think I see yellow from when I hunkered
below sightline to avoid confrontation,
scarlet flames from when I burned my bridges,
orange – what does the orange
say? I haven’t read that one yet