Frederick Smock

III.III. Section 4: I Am (not) Nature
Frederick Smock
[A butterfly comes to rest]
A butterfly comes to rest
on my knee,
so naturally I cannot move.
Its wings tremble in the breeze,
or it is testing flight.
It wiggles its antennae, its tail.
The little creature,
though at rest,
is in constant motion,
and I, motionless,
cannot rest, not with the fate of
the world here before me.
Frederick Smock is associate professor of English at Bellarmine University. Recent work has appeared in The American Poetry Review, The Hudson Review, and The Iowa Review.

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