Final Flight
by Carol Kilty

The last monarch butterfly
has flown.
A failure to keep
beauty alive.
Translucent orange
tipped black, sails
slowly above a flower
no more, no sound, no knowing—
the earth is not caring.

Loss is slow and quiet
until beauty is gone.
The loss of the monarch
is as the loss of my child.

I find comfort seeing
in my mind her soul
enveloped by a butterfly
to keep safe, my little one.
How sweet her tiny hands
touched by the fragile wings,
as they journey together.

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