Poem: Little Wings

Wriggling and crawling, emerging from an insignificant egg

Disgusting as bird poop, you began moving over the branches

Fearful like a miniature monster, you chomped off fresh lime leaves

One morning, in the guise of a leaf hanging upside down

You began to wither as if death would arrive anytime soon

In the stillness of dull days that went by

The lime tree bore an odd flower, called butterfly

Insight Stories