It leaves its erratic imprints on her hands, jagged lines and dots
A cool autumn breeze lifts her hair gently from behind,
The light of a descending sun warms her face with its autumnal glow.
She had climbed up from a small, frail metal ladder by the side
Now, sitting on the top of the school, she is by herself.
Her phone dings, but she reaches over and turns it over, screen facing down.
Let me remember this moment forever, she thinks. Look at this beauty.
A monarch catches her eye, the sun shining through its colored wings.
With each fold and unfolding of its delicate wings it soars miles and miles higher.
What a marvel - it is almost as if it had been crafted by a man and a simple pair of scissors,
Cut from the paper that is the prairie, rolling hills, placid lake, and desert sand.