Ebony Omen

As I sit idly on the porch
allowing my mind to roam,
I find solace hearing the birds
chatting from their nesting homes.
Their pitch and speed changes
from singing to a harping tongue
when scolding the squirrels
who pilfer their unborn young.
But autumn will soon be here.
Summer's flavor will subside
and brittle leaves will fall
to be crushed by passersby.
I thought of the black butterfly
that once rested upon my knee.
Oh, how I wanted to caress
its beautiful gossamer wings.
Its life would soon be over
like the cycles of the moon
yet I would not risk its demise
for many things die too soon. 
So I viewed the ebony beauty
as a good omen that afternoon.
I must believe for winter
will be pressing upon me soon.
Barren trees will stand desolate
against the lonely winter cold
and I pray to make it through
with enough warmth to uphold.
For all God's creatures revive
with the rebirth of spring
so with hunger I'll await the return
of the butterfly with ebony wings.
Poem by Carol Barton
Copyright 2003 ~ Carol Barton
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