- Vol. 05
- Chapter 03
The Butterfly at the end of the Avalanche
The butterfly at the end of the avalanche wonders if it is safe to land Or keep riding the (tail) wind.
Such is the danger of possibility.
The fallen leaves scream welcome To the blue winter whirlwind And the butterfly wonders, if it is the pioneer Of the new age or merely, Another vichy, a front Behind which is written disaster In an invisible ink au naturel.
Eye witnesses none, but for the leaves, The photographer turned tail No sooner the picture was taken. They heard about it a mile away, but no one could tell The colour the wind was written, the language it spoke…
The butterfly has no time to wonder, stand and stare, To think would invite peril. It was merely caught in history and rode on, Its wings whirring at the speed of dusk, No morning glories lie in its path.
Tunnel vision was all, and everyone saved what they could, Looked at their bank accounts one last time, Just so their progeny wouldn’t call them