Six-month comparison. May to November.

In the garden

Danielle M. Gamiz

She's a tiny butterfly who's trying out her wings.
She bounces from flower to flower,
Sampling each fragrant blossom,
At times lingering to tickle a puff of yellow powder with her delicate legs.
Then she flaps and flaps, fluttering off to taste new blooms.

He's a brand-new caterpillar with a tender, wriggling shape.
His stripes are bold and bright and new--
His legs delicate but gaining strength.
He shimmies along a smooth branch to find a juicy leaf.
He nibbles until it's gone, then moves on for another snack.

These two creatures are changing every day.

And I?
I am just a gardener,
Tending the soil in their garden.
Planting the flowers and plants that nourish them as they grow;
Pulling weeds to protect them;
Shooing away birds and insects that might threaten their peaceful existence.

What hard work this requires of me.
What joy I daily feel.
And one day, not too long from now,
These beloved beings both will fly away.