Tim
seeks me
in the garden
small
white
butterfly
always
hovering
nearby
Ghost
that I glimpse
from the side of my eye
Darting through blossoms
resting on leaves
Taking advantage of sunshine and breeze
Pointing out a shapely cloud
waiting on my mailbox
inquisitive antenna cocked
Reminding me
as mortality
rages on
death
is not
the final stop
One of my favorites, photo and words , a perfect blend. I totally agree “death is not the final stop”
Beautiful photo and thoughts!
I’m surprised to see a long poem … I can only imagine why here you write a poem with a lot of words: you tell us about death and someone who is still in your garden…
I like a lot both photo and words, thinking to my deads, my butterflies, my nearnesses … Thank you Catherine
This is beautiful; your words, the photo they hang on, the image of the placement of your stanzas. Amazing. I see these white moths all the time here. Even when they blend into the scenery, they are welcome pollinators. That looks like Cleome.
Amazing moment – beautiful shot & poem. Thank you.
Very beautiful and touching, words and photo
Wonderful words.
This made me cry it was so lovely. I needed to hear this today.
Beautiful!
Moving and heartfelt poem.
Beautiful. I have a departed friend who comes around (when her perspective is needed!) as a red dragonfly.
lovely elegy.
I will share this with a friend who lost her son. This November will be one year. This poem must have very special meaning to you. Peace, Bev
Wow. Super. What more can I say.
Well done!
This longer poem is poignant and says so much. Great post
Beautiful photo and poem to match
You must know this is truth well spoken; I commend you for such a poem.