Nature in Reverse

Butterflies

Flutter by

So quickly you could almost hear

Their wings flapping near

But the bulldozer has something to say of its own.

Flinging the crass dirt

Into the eyes of

Passersby,

The wind speaks for itself.

Angry that it has no place to blow

No place to go

Since the leaves on top of the trees

Were its home.

Sirens claiming the machinery are going backwards

Sing, but not alluringly,

They scream to stay away

As the clay mountain grows larger

A tiny colorful spot emerges.

The broken peacock wings turned to powder.

Its injured abdomen sickly crunches

As a body would under the weight of a noose.

The world would be so much more colorful

If we stopped and braked for butterflies.