When I part the curtains today, I see rain falling.
Isn’t summer just yesterday?
A fast change of weather, a fast change of mind,
A flip and a flop of dry and wet, a
Distraction from this instant when a butterfly,
Prim and proper, decides to shoot out of her cocoon.
She can be any woman running late,
Shouting five more minutes, fussing over the
Texture of her wings in contrast to the tone of her mood.
The unfurling of her body shocks muddy skies,
I am left speechless.
She commands attention to the whitest pair of wings.
A spanking, white-hot, new transformation.
Ha Kiet Chau is a poet and freelance writer. She teaches art and literature in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her writings have appeared or are forthcoming in Plougshares, Asia Literary Review, THRUSH Poetry Journal, Bedtime-Story, Marco Polo, and many others.