Reading my mystery,
I had reached
the end of a chapter
and was flipping backward
to remind myself
of the chapter title,
when I saw it
alight,
a small butterfly,
half-inch wings,
dark brown
with bright orange stripes
till seconds later
it flew away.
That pages of print,
gray on gray,
should always be punctuated
with such moments of grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Those grey pages could never compete with such a moment of grace and beauty. Enjoyed this lovely poem.