Maypop, passion vine, gaudy flowers
symbol swollen, corona of crimped glory.
Charismatic edible, soother of ruminators.
A climber, rambunctious.
What better host
to a bittersweet longwing hugging you?
Gulf Fritillary, birthing
yellow eggs, elongated, ribbed
hiding among wild winding vines.
Each hatches a wet orange, black-spined caterpillar,
ready to gnaw, denude to sad sticks,
then crawl to hide, assume the J position
chrysalis into a tan twin to a dead leaf.
Emerge a carroty celebration,
three white dots top each wing, encircled in black,
closing to showcase mirrored panes beneath.
Three inches of flying flower.
Passion vine, a lavish host—
devoured, to birth an elegance
of auburn.
-Lucy Griffith
Happiest on a tractor named Mabel, Lucy Griffith lives on a Guadalupe River ranch. Her debut collection We Make a Tiny Herd was awarded the Wrangler Prize for Poetry by the Western Heritage Hall of Fame. She is a Bread Loaf Scholar and was nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize. www.lucygriffithwriter.com