From the recording Spring: The Wind's Story
The Swallowtail by Mary Rocap
I watch the yellow swallowtail flutter in the air
brightly colored powder wings so thin they’re hardly there
today they gather round a bush that flowers with a rosy hue
tomorrow the wind will carry them; are you more false than you’re true?
a week ago I had a vine and on the porch it grew
your caterpillar-self ate every leaf and every tomato too
I was almost ready to pick that fruit the next day or the next
you ate until you could eat no more and then you ate the rest
who knows how long a life you live; do you have a favorite part?
would you rather crawl or sleep or fly? do you only have one heart?
Look, even now, I see you flying above the trees
up and up and far away so high that I can’t see
something has called you up and out; something has drawn you on
was it brave to spread those yellow sails or just more right than wrong?
I’m left behind with a withered vine; you took something from me
you’ve left and did you also take a swallowtail memory?
ooo . . .