On a lichen-covered
Decaying tree in the wood
Shrouded by overhead branches
A beam of sunlight breaches the canopy
And illuminates a spot where
A Monarch comes to rest on the rot
Her wings open and fold, open and fold

In a tiny home on some street
Unremarkable from all others
A woman wakes
Just as daylight breaches the horizon
Baby to breast
Then, on with the rest –
Laundry, and work, and meals
Lunches, hugs, and soccer fields
Her arms open and hold, open and hold