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Jenny Hurwitz


Macon, GA, US

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Jenny Hurwitz

I am afraid of butterflies-
Little tiny bestial strength-
But don't judge them by their petite size,
Or the deceiving gesture of their length.
These creatures are meticulously loud
during their kissing hour,
while they linger on.
Then, they fly-victorious and proud.
They hear the echoes of the grieving flower,
And say the sting is gone.
Sucking honey from the breast,
With ways so warm and beckoning-
Pity those who are so caressed
And lost by beauty's reckoning.
How vile, indeed,
These creatures swarm-
Leaving bowers violated-
Hearts left to bleed,
To curse the warm-
Praying beauty be annihilated!
Hide in silk, o frilly snake,
Until your dying day-
Poppies rise, petunias wake,
`Til the tempest flies away.