A banter in my backyard
I spoke to the butterfly telling her
I saw a lizard in the middle
of April at the edge of my garden
and how it was jarred out of its
shaded lethargy by the sprinkle
issuing from my watering hose and
not the traditional mensal showers.
The butterfly flitted her wings at me
which I interpreted as meaning
don’t pull my arms, “They were
April showers weren’t they? ”
but when I looked again at the lizard
now basking on the sun-warmed rock
the butterfly was gone and I knew
what I heard was the air whispering.
poem by Alex Nodopaka (2010)
Added by Poetry Lover
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