Viceroy and Monarch

It’s been a bizarre summer

Fire, floods
Unbearable heat
Cold snaps
My first skeeter bite
 on July 29
Humidity holding
pollen high as an elephant’s eye
No bees
I’m pretty sure because
Of a bright yellow
Crop duster spilling chemicals
Across the corn
Every morning at dawn
Sounding like an air raid.
And new this year
No butterflies
It’s one of those
You don’t notice
Is gone
Until someone mentions it
You really miss them
Their bright colors
 air out of nowhere
The metaphors
Of metamorphosis
Perhaps it’s because
Butterflies are free
But I suspect
The low flying
Yellow crop duster
Mocking bird


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