Bereaved Butterfly

Turn back to and don’t look for it ahead
That wretched destiny sheltered in fate’s run-down shed
You like your truth processed and not served raw
To be gulped down like juice or comfortably with a straw

There’s velvet in your steps
Where it all converges at a point

You gently nudged her
But that broke her wings
And now there’s no respite

In your sadness you forget fatigue
In your anger you accelerate speed

You and the bereaved butterfly
Two columns of a magnificent creed
Sharing the tragedy of that doomed week
By dwelling in silence and refusing to speak