For everything a season …

The man was so gentle
that, when he stood
by the back door of the white church
he had come every week
for ten years to clean,
as the volunteer janitor,
and leaned against the splintered frame
looking at September afternoon sunlight
stripe the leaves of trees
and sprinkle the last floating dust with light,
a butterfly came and lit on the threshold
beside him,
and he stooped down
ever so slowly
and stroked its wings,
just as mysteriously lined
as the map of wrinkles around his old eyes.

“Autumn’s coming,” Wally said.yellow_monarch_butterfly_wallpaper_
Autumn’s coming.

 

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2 Responses to For everything a season …

  1. Oh, thanks so very much for this, a butterfly blessing of a portrait of a gentle man.

  2. Pam spain says:

    So grace filled!

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