The Butterfly Net
Caught:
One member of a family,
something truly original –
word or thought –
apprehends us in our frailty
if we wait; a whole pending
swarm of colour chaos in it
so our eye may be trapped
by wanting into belief.
Its wings are like the judgements
behind kindness, its presence
makes us afraid; we hear
its brothers hurry with a locust stir,
the air whirring with heartbeats
where there is no heart;
and when their thrown net descends
we have only time to blink in the sunlight:
Then let go.