The beautiful striped butterfly
made a slow wandering pass
over the garden, no screaming engine
leaving a madman's whistle behind it,
a show-off trail of vapour.

Instead,
noiselessly, effortlessly it fluttered
on its aimless, summer-easy way,

and for a moment all the world
stopped breathing with me as we watched it
climb suddenly and disappear
behind the empty-hanging lilac bushes.

Raymond Souster