Wise Poets – Frank Ormsby – The Butterfly House

Frank Ormsby

One more butterfly in the butterfly house
will count as overcrowding. Sun all morning
and the heaviness of piped heat
draws hundreds to the surface. They spend their days
being exquisite in a history without wars. We are able,
briefly, to forget the scaly intent,
the cold-skinned slither a hundred yards away
in the tropical ravine. Hold up your arm
and with luck you will emerge into the garden,
badged and sleeved with butterflies,
a thousand bright sails opening around you.