0015 Frenzy

There’s frenzy in the kitchen: a pale yellow brimstone butterfly, frantic - fluttering dashes, dives, attacks, swerves and retreats from the naked light-bulb, again and again drawn by (is it her?) irresistible beauteous light, repelled by the passionate heat of (her) denying presence, cold to her lover… outside, I’d give it but a glance; here inside, the agitation is unnerving, drawing me in as if it bears a metaphor for life.. a lover that will not learn that what it most desires is not to be fulfilled.. I grab a kitchen sieve, wave it ineffectively, now talking to the creature like a baby in some mortal danger – ‘we’re going to save you..’ ‘we’re going to save you..’ suddenly the butterfly, as if I had uttered the purest prayer (as indeed I had) , settles in an instant upon the sieve’s outside, all passion spent, and totally at peace; allows my careful passage to the open air; leaving some metaphor unformed, more unresolved questions of myself than poetry may yield