Enveloped
She could see the world but never move
Company only to the scratchy feel
Of her home cocoon
But her eyes flickered at passersby
Frogs huddled against rain, clutters of slick
Birds preening for warmth
She'd shiver, wish silk would comfort her
Instead bites from her home bled fey blood green
She fidgeted
Her heart soared as her cocoon crumbled
Tears spangled her worn eyes as she unfurled
A new pair of wings
--Sierra July
Poet's Notes: After receiving a notebook with butterflies on it, I wanted to write something in it. Of course, the first thing that came to mind was something about life in a chrysalis (a cocoon in the poem). Rather than personifying a baby butterfly’s (or moth's) thoughts in life as I intended, a lonely fairy was born who was granted wings and freedom in the end. I like to think that she makes friends with the wildlife she observed and perhaps finds more of her kind. Regardless she is happy to be neither boxed in my mind or in that cocoon.
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