He swoops in close enough to catch my attention.
Beautiful, colorful, wonderful.
I reach for him but he spins and turns.
Just past my reach, just outside my range.
A second attempt to gently grasp a wing fails.
I watch, I hope.
He comes near and teases.
I coax him with kind words.
Please, please light here a while.
But he cannot be captured in a net of language.
Without warning, he brushes my cheek.
A moment of magic.
And then he is off.
My elusive creature floats away to a world only he knows.
But I still watch. I still hope.
I wait for that conversation with a butterfly.