The Approach To Other Lives

Wildflowers began my crusade,
blossoming hordes of them,
baring the valley's heart.
Butterflies continued it,
temporary beauty
flitting from phlox to bluebell.
I admit even the insects
had me going, especially tiny loud ones...
the relentless buzz of simplest life.
By the time people emerged,
I'd jerked out a wildflower,
noticed how quickly its leaves
crinkled brown, its hues faded
once severed from its roots.
I'd caught a butterfly,
mourned how having it dead and mounted
made it so much more unobtainable.
I'd even captured an insect,
in a jar with not enough holes,
become the one unwitting source of death
in afield of life.
And I brought a girl here
knowing already what it was like
to bring something anywhere.