monarch butterflies
dabs of color
points of light
high in the sky
so small
so full of life in flight
glide down at sunset
rest through the night
clinging to twigs and boughs
quiet, dark.
damp with dew
they perch in the morning sun
while wings of black
and orange-gold
unfurl and flutter
till dry and weightless.
once more the monarchs rise
in the autumn sky
up and up
on norther currents
they ride the wind
beauty in flight
to winter south
where warm hills
are flowered
and blooms bear
sweet nectar.