These Butterflies, Souls

I looked up and saw you, I’m sure it was you, these butterflies, souls, fluttering with the lightness of the now-possible, and I saw you up there, Dad, and I wanted to ask, and I wanted to know, and I wanted to say but there were wings, so many of them, blue leaves, flying upwards and I remembered things I’d forgotten and forgot the day, Dad, and my words, and I wondered which moment, which moment exactly took you, and how many butterflies, and how many butterflies you counted while you waited and waited and waited, counting how long life can be, just before we leave.