When I was a girl,
most of the butterflies
I saw around here
were small and plain.
Sometimes I would
cup them mid flight
between my two hands
just to feel their wings
tickling my palms.
I pinched a wing once
with my thumb and pointer
and the powder from it
was left on my fingertips.
I used to bottle ants
and fireflies and grasshoppers
in glass jars but somehow
I never thought a butterfly
was for keeps.
I rarely see them these days
in my brick-walled
concrete-and-steel life,
where the shrubbery
is flowerless and trimmed.
©A. D. Joyce, 2014
A. D. Joyce 
Butterfly Dust=Pixie Dust!!
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Lol, indeed! 🙂
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Adriene, this is beautiful! It brought back so many childhood memories! Capturing ladybugs in a glass jar was one my sister and my favorite pastimes when we were children! Loved the poem!
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Much thanks, Bella! Fun, right? I love ladybugs, too. 🙂
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