June Picture

June Picture In the enchanted dell, where grass is forever green, I saw a carpet of summer birds, yellow as real butter before it was made low fat to suit a slimming fad. They took off, dispersed flew slowly on silent wings; amongst thorny bushes that are seven hued green, waiting for a lumbering troll to pass. Last time I saw a yellow summer bird, it was sallow, late September it had lived too long, sat on the sill rain fell and it as soaked; opened the window to let it in, could sit by the fire till spring. Too late, in my hand it turned into fluff, blew dust off my hand and I saw each particle disperse and fly on silent wings. Butterfly (summer bird.)