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Butterfly Heart
Down to the creek you came
Flaxen hair and red-handled fishing net
On a wet Wednesday morning.
The moths and crickets scampered away
Sound of galoshes and sheen of yellow raincoat
Scaring them away to the undersides of heavy leaves
But not I. Slowed and love-drunk by the sound and colour
I fluttered above the grass-tip spears
And drank your colours in through my minds proboscis
Spying me your arm whips back, you swing your net
The sun appears and I watch a glorious backlash of droplets
Supernova as you capture my butterfly heart
poem
by
Ashley Hawkes
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