Desdirata:Proeme by Scott McClenny
She lies there on the grass hair loose,
Eyes looking sunward to the stars homeward,
Thoughts unknowable,
As the butterfly flits past her wings silent,
It stops,
Landing softly on her lips,
Reflective her gaze changes,
And she peers curious at the lepidoptera,
The repressed love of nature wakens in her,
She smiles,
As though reading her thoughts the butterfly,
Flits happily around her,
Then she wakes from her reverie,
Steps out the door into the new day refreshed,
With something added that was not there before.