A butterfly haunts me,
Oft more frequently than not,
Flit and flickering about,
Quite boldly lighting on my sun soaked shoulder,
As if whispering in my ear . . .
Lovingly unafraid as I work in my garden and such.
She seems to know when I need her most,
And out of nowhere,
Fills my being once more
with life.
Mom!
Mom, “I’m here,
And I miss you dearly.”
This poem was originally written on Mother’s Day 2019 and published 5/6/2020 in “Poetry on My Mind,” p 74.
“I recall numerous bike rides where someone would tell me that a butterfly was on my back...”MOM?” Maybe Dad? - Mickey Sharp