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Morgan and Margarine
Does butter fly?
Margarine doesn't.
That's what Morgan calls
the Monarch with a broken wing-
Margarine.
She rescued Margarine
on a bike ride,
finding her abandoned
at the roadside.
Morgan's always rescuing
wounded things,
just like her mother.
Perched precariously
on Barbie pink handlebars,
Margarine came home
to die.
I'd like to think
Morgan provided her joy
in her final hours
as she gingerly
placed her
on flower
after flower
after flower.
Margarine drank the nectar
of tulips and roses,
lillies, hyacinths,
hydrangeas, mums,
lilacs and...
She swirled amongst
pink, purple, yellow,
blue, green foilage,
becoming a rainbow
if only in spirit.
Morgan set her in
tiny dewdrops
to garnish nourishment
through fragile feet.
I only hope that
Margarine knows
how she tasted Heaven
in a little girls
tiny awkward fingers
before her final flight.
Fly away, butterfly.
Butter fly.
Flutter by.
Goodbye
sweet
Margarine.
You taught us
that butter
really does fly.
Lori Beal
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Morgan and Margarine
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