Butterfly (II)
Hilda Conkling
As I walked through my garden I saw a butterfly light on a flower. His wings were pink and purple: He spoke a small word . . . It was Follow! “I cannot follow” I told him, “I have to go the opposite way.”
As I walked through my garden I saw a butterfly light on a flower. His wings were pink and purple: He spoke a small word . . . It was Follow! “I cannot follow” I told him, “I have to go the opposite way.”