You and Eliza, our daughter, searched for the rectangle pan,
filled it with beautiful rocks and sand and a bit of water
and set it in the garden you both planted together.
It’s a place for butterflies to rest and get water.
A place where they can flutter in
with weary lovey wings
weighted by fatigue
and rest for a moment
in the shadow of blooms.
That’s the thing about you I love the most.
You are not just like the rest of us,
waiting to see the butterfly.
Hoping to catch the bright yellow
or blue
or orange
against a world of dry summer grass.
You are tending to them.
You are teaching our daughter
what these small lovely creatures need to survive.
You are giving it to them
and to us
with the placement of each stone,
the planting of each bulb.
blue sky infinite 