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Migration of the Monarchs
A poem, a poet’s note and a poetry writing prompt
I am filled with air,
I taste the sky like nectar
and our slow beating is a flapping sail
echoing the wind.
The sun flares, there is no more
shivering in the morning’s bite
as layer upon layer of
amber sheets rise from their bed.
I feel orange blossom, sense
hot summer grass as we
leave behind bitter pretence.
In one field there will be
a million of us at rest,
unseasonal flowers
dripping from every blade.
Poet’s note: The first time I heard about the amazing migration of millions of monarch butterflies, I could hardly believe it. I Googled lots of photos, and kept thinking about the images I’d found. Eventually I wrote this poem. It was awful to read about the huge reduction in numbers over the past few years, although now I know it can vary dramatically — volcanic…
