One of the Butterflies
by W. S. Merwin
The trouble with pleasure is the timing
it can overtake me without warning
and be gone before I know it is here
it can stand facing me unrecognized
while I am remembering somewhere else
in another age or someone not seen
for years and never to be seen again
in this world and it seems that I cherish
only now a joy I was not aware of
when it was here although it remains
out of reach and will not be caught or named
or called back and if I could make it stay
as I want to it would turn to pain.
I took the pictures. (It's the same butterfly, showing off her outer and inner beauties.) I found the poem at The Writer's Almanac and couldn't figure out a way to divide it. Hopefully the copyright police will allow me this rare indiscretion.
The roundup today is at Picture Book of the Day, hosted by Anastasia Suen.
Happy Friday! And, hey, don't let your happiness get away from you like a butterfly that doesn't sit still for a picture -- pay attention to your happiness and enjoy it NOW, while it's right there in front of you!