Celastrina
by Jeb Obrian
Near the side of a mountain
I captured a butterfly
with metallic wings
(shining, at any rate, like steel
in the midday sun)
by cupping my bare hands.
My outstretched arms
engthened like shadows
until a wing’s edge cut my palm,
deepening my life line.
I had no choice but to let it go.
Jeb is the son of Patrick and Siobhan. He lived under the overpass on Lakeview Boulevard until it was turned into a park. He is now searching for a new home.
