On Effects And Butterflies

My wings are wet, and yet I fan them
Out on space before me
Drying in their moment seized
Prepared for flight and force

Into the sky I lunge now piercing
Air that waits above me
Drawing in its flaming breath
Struck red by blood of sunrise

With a heave t’ward lust and light
Wing with force and thrust
Cuts now into the misty morning
Lifting me into it

Repercussions of my stroke
They say can bring a stormfront
Weeks from now in southern fields
Of water and of lightning

This quick effect, or slow it seems,
Was never in my vision
But knowing that my thrust had force
Enables me to land

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