My Butterfly

Time and sun have left their mark,
mapped your day, your play.
Defined your soft edges.
From your feet, I wash the day,
venerate your presence.
For those moments,
you allow me to hold you close,
feel the pulse
that once resided within me.

Stubborn.
Always the stubborn one.
The waited for daughter
who wishes she was another.
Leaves time at home,
along with dresses.
Runs to abandonment,
gathering the verdant;
my butterfly.