and i witness

in the dream the cocoon of the monarch appears to be drying out, it swells and shows preemptive signs of hatching. panicking, i cover it with a cloth in an effort to keep it in the dark a little longer, to let it continue to gestate.

but it hatches anyway, and i witness the still birth of a butterfly, its pale orange wings not fully formed.

when I wake up i forget the dream until
i am in the kitchen making eggs for breakfast and i see
the clear container on the counter where the monarch cocoon hangs on a mesh screen, and it doesn’t look swollen or dried out. the colors are deepening to black, signs of almost readiness to emerge. the gold spotted trim gleams.
picture of health.

i had written my estimate of when it would hatch on the side of the box due date 9/17 which happens to be tomorrow, so there is still a little bit of time.

stuffed under

how I feel like i’m at the corner of may

how the leaves on the trees look like unfurling umbrellas,
or

like the wet wings of butterflies just after they leave the cocoon.

heavy.
(with possibility)

how my sense of smell is lost
for several days
stuffed under the couch of a cold
and I exuberantly (and perhaps deliriously) spread (way too much) thieves essential oil blend on the
bottoms of my feet
for the sake of immunity.

more than one or two people at the party ask surprised DO you smell that? what is that? when we walk into a room and i can’t help but
burst out laughing.