Monarch and Viceroy
Though the lily lasts only a day it is quickly replaced
by another grass grows taller making hay and the girl
who comes down from the hilltop each day to make daisy
chains and crowns and necklaces sometimes she uses clover is imperceptibly
molting look closely and you can see her in a field of milkweed
aflame in her colorful flowers she is studded with the fluttering
of butterflies she is Queen of the Milkweed see her circling there
in her crown turning and turning her two small palms reaching up
toward the sun it is hard to believe she will ever experience
failure summer will come to its rightful conclusion the milkweed field
will fill with brown pods of white cottony blossoms and the monarchs will leave
following the wave of their great migration the girl will pass the field
and arrive at the pond where she will startle the frogs a red-winged blackbird will
catch her eye as it lands on a reed or so it will seem she will see
the goldenrod in its prime she will see a single orange and black
butterfly and think it a monarch though they have left for the season.
Nettie Farris
14 February 2007
Journal of Kentucky Studies, 2007
Monarch and Viceroy
Though the lily lasts only a day, it is quickly replaced
by another. Grass grows taller,
making hay, and the girl who comes down
from the hilltop each day
to make daisy chains and crowns and necklaces
(sometimes she uses clover) is imperceptibly
molting. Look closely and you can see her
in a field of milkweed, aflame in her colorful flowers.
She is studded with the fluttering of butterflies.
She is Queen of the Milkweed.
See her circling there (in her crown) turning
and turning, her two small palms reaching up
toward the sun? It is hard to believe
she will ever experience failure.
Summer will come to its rightful conclusion.
The milkweed field will fill
with brown pods of white cottony blossoms,
and the monarchs will leave, following the wave
of their great migration. The girl will pass the field
and arrive at the pond, where she will startle
the frogs. A red-winged blackbird will catch her eye
as it lands on a reed. (Or so it will seem.)
She will see the goldenrod, in its prime.
She will see a single orange and black butterfly
and think it a monarch, though they have left for the season.
13 February 2007
Monarch and Viceroy
Winter had reigned, alien and inhospitable, until, at last, its fervor was all spent, and it came to rest, peaceable, yet still greedy. The arrival of spring was delayed, and the world stood agape, teetering on the brink between seasons. Was it time to awake? Or should one simply keep dreaming? Finally the earth stirred, and from the air, a bird spied one whit crocus rising up from the mud. (Or so it seemed.) Soon daffodils followed. And tulips. Narcissus. Forsythia (with its onslaught of briht yellow blossoms) and fruit trees (pear and cherry), lining the roadside. No one could remember wuch earthly abundance. It blunted one’s senses. And by the time the old locust trees came in, gifting the wind with their sweet-smelling sadness, one hardly noticed them.
So it goes with those who follow.
Summer is more comfortable. Though the lily lasts only a day, it is quickly replaced by another. Grass grows taller, making hay. And the girl who comes down from the hilltop each day to make daisy chains and crowns and necklaces (sometimes she uses clover), is imperceptibly molting.
Look closely and you can see her in a field of milkweed, aflame in her colorful flowers. She is studded with the fluttering of butterflies. She is Queen of the Milkweed. See her circling there (in her crown), turning and turning, her two small palms reaching up like a psalm? It is hard to believe she will ever experience failure.
Summer will come to its rightful conclusion. The milkweed field will fill with the brown pods of white cottony blossoms. And the monarchs will leave, following the wave of their great migration. The girl will pass the field and arrive at the pond, where she will startle the frogs. A red-winged blackbird will catch her eye as it lands on a reed. (Or so it will seem). She will see the goldenrod, in its prime. She will see a single orange and black butterfly and think it a monarch, though they have left for the season.
She will go home, leaving the butterfly to feast on its nectar.
See the horizontal black stripe on its lower wing? To the red-winged blackbird, the monarch and the viceroy look very much alike (and tastes equally awful), but the viceroy endures winter. It adapts. Viceroy does not follow the monarch’s great migration, but stays, waiting patiently for spring.
5 June 2004
Rejected by Journal of Kentucky Studies, for obvious reasons.