
I met him at the butterfly house
in the zoo.
I remember butterflies
settling all around him
drawing attention to his presence.
He was so still.
A small girl, with a rainbow hat,
watched the scene
but she giggled and jumped
– the butterflies scattered.
Delighted at their flight
she grabbed her mother’s hand
and they moved on to follow the butterflies
further into the enclosure.
But my eyes could not;
they remained on the still man
who seemed to remain in a sublime moment.
He blinked and then
looked straight towards me.
I blushed
to be captured staring
which was not something
I normally did so indiscreetly.
A smile settled in his face
and he said ‘Whenever I come here I remember home.’
this was our opening .
I would usually have brushed such a greeting away
as I liked to keep to myself
when out in public places
where everyone was a stranger
but something drew me in,
‘Where’s home?’
‘Queensland’
‘Ah you have great butterflies there,’ I ventured.
‘Yes, we do.’
I waited for more,
but he simply began to walk
and so did I.
Butterflies were our beginning.
(c) June Perkins

Perhaps it is more poetic prose than poetry, but the adventures of Miranda continue. Before we journey through her grief we meet her finding love in the butterfly house.
Reblogged this on Pearlz Dreaming and commented:
Continuing Miranda’s story..