Monday, May 30, 2011

BEAUTY IS AN OMEN


OMEN


A papillon with the mourning cloak
bodes grief; leave it free to flit from
whence it came to where it goes.
 

Capture it, and you become a gaoler
of the ghost it carries from unknown
gardens, uncharted lanes, lost zones:
 

Mark how it circled you thrice before
alighting on your chair not your tea cup
where it is moist and comfortable.
 

Let it leave its yet undelivered
message: a brew of auguries and omens
from the cocoons of the netherworld.
 

Do I scare you with this ghoulish rant?
Or shall I leave you to scare yourself
with your own disembodied yearnings? 

Ah, but beware my morning porch friend,
beauty, wherever you find it, is an omen.

—Albert B. Casuga
05-28-11

Poetic PromptA mourning cloak butterfly circles the porch and yard three times, going behind my chair, including me in whatever it means to outline. Dave Bonta, Morning Porch, 05-28-11 http://www.morningporch.com/2011/05/

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