near invisible,

imagine silk organza, chameleoned

peach-pink colored, when i Am naked,

the color of water as i bathe.

sky blue, golden, sherbet, grayed or midnight black,

when i Am outside

ever-shifting with the time of day and weather,

once, even green,

as i knelt down in the cold grass

while diaphanous to all the unobservant

i Am dressed in this cloak of mourning

and the hem is lined with lead

---

this poem was inspired on October 8th, 2023, by what i mistook as an errant, blackened chunk of cindered-wood from the fire ring, but upon closer inspection, i saw a living being, my first-ever sighting of and encounter with a

mourning cloak butterfly

which i implicitly understood as a visitation from my dearly departed friend /

and as i held kin in my hand, they flew up and away, gone from my sight

---

---

i break for butterflies