The Owl Butterfly

A poem for America

The Owl Butterfly


The pin oaks bend in the direction
the last storm was headed. The farmer

remembers the crops that didn’t make it
more than those that did. We rhyme 

to remember, nature rhymes for survival, 
the owl butterfly, for example, resembles

most its greatest threat. Prey in this case 
masquerading as predator. Over time, 

it seems, we all do the same, evolving 
into what puts us most at risk. Reasoning

this will make us and our offspring less
vulnerable. In the long run we’re not all 

dead, but all becoming what we fear most, 
that being willing to put survival above 

all else—the shoehorn crab, crocodile, 
virus, the owl butterfly happy to feast 

on fermented fruit, betting he'll survive 
the coming hangover, lusting for another

drink, another owl butterfly to make more
owl butterflies; he has become, 

within the golden scales and dust 
that pattern his wings, his own best enemy.