Chilly autumn days—
 
every yellow butterfly
 
has fled my garden.

 
 
 

Yellow butterfly,
 
tell me how to tell the tale
 
that will never end.

 
 
 

Deepening summer—
 
not one monarch butterfly
 
visits my garden!

 
 
 

Yellow butterfly,
 
that hungry, leering blue jay
 
has its eyes on you.

 

 
 
 

Yellow butterfly,
 
don’t be in such a hurry—
 
stay with me a while!

 

 
 
 

Yellow butterfly,
 
why do you flit in and out
 
of my winter dreams?

 
 
 

The last butterfly
 
to forage in my garden
 
left its breath behind.

 
 
 

These blood-red poppies,
 
unlike the white butterfly,
 
mind their own business.

 
 
 

Yellow butterfly,
 
if I could speak your language,
 
we’d have a great talk.

 
 
 

One brush of your wing
 
satisfies all my longings,
 
yellow butterfly.