Going Home Poem by Cheryl Lynn Moyer Peele

Orange paper thin wings
flit fluttering two thousand
miles. Six months on slivers
of onerous air and borrowed
light rising 57 degrees above
a North American horizon.
Due south to a mother's
remembered Mexican sky.

Chemicals curl milkweed
pods. Sparse feedings
and eggs to propel futures
in monarch communities
or returns on delicate
floating insect souls.

Mere ganglion brains
insistently proclaiming,
This way, this way,

This way home.