Butterfly Poems


I sit here at peace
and mind my own business
and hope for a butterfly.

I never take one out of the air.
I paint only the flight of the butterfly.
If I see one float overhead

I drop everything,
grab a brush and a pad.
I don’t want to miss a color.

A butterfly floating
is more valuable
than gold.

By Donal Mahoney


Donal Mahoney, a native of Chicago, lives in St. Louis, MO. He has worked as an editor for The Chicago Sun-Times, Loyola University Press and Washington University in St. Louis. Read more of his poems in Eye on Life Magazine here.

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