walking out of the pain clinic's building

out the glass door
onto the pavement
she notices something

her eyes pull her towards it
looking downward
focused and intent
colorful
yellow
with four dots
one on each wing
four beautiful wings
a butterfly's

a butterfly's body on pavement
she hesitates
she notices; a man observing her
she thinks; he must wonder what keeps my head bent towards the pavement

And then she bends down, like to a child
and gently lays the butterfly body onto her palm
quickly cupping it between two hands before the wind grabs it and sends it sailing to nowhere

Cupped between two warm hands, safe from wind that plays with the falling leaves, blowing them upward and chasing them until they settle somewhere else and again...

This butterfly body has a different destiny
Cupped in her hand, the Trolley driver notices its beauty
At the jewelry store she asks for a box
The sales-lady comments on its beauty
And at home, her mother admires its beauty

Beauty
can sometimes
take one's mind
off of pain

Butterflies shed their bodies and flutter into my soul