My Botanist, aged three
In the garden where a mother can find peace
in the shade of a magnolia tree, I watched
my botanist, aged three, study the molecular
structure of a leaf. Her tiny fingers held it up
to the light, turned it over and over before
growing bored and letting it fall. From there, she
continued collecting petals and leaves
and stashed these behind rocks and plant pots
and squealed when a butterfly joined us
but instantly obeyed the finger touched to my lips.
She watched with those big brown eyes
as I caught the butterfly and when I felt the flicker
of flight against my palm, I thought, how small
is its heart? And does it feel the weight of things
like love and life and letting go?
Copyright © Sam Payne 2017
Sam Payne is a writer living in Devon.