A butterfly’s serpentine path
between impromptu floral sketches
of tears and joy, bitter and sweet.
Clusters of summer grapes clipped
by the vigneron, left to fertilize the soil,
vines decluttered for better balance
between fruit and canopy, family and world.
Run! Run from your guardian angel’s tight embrace.
Your path always starts wherever you stand.
-Meg Freer
Meg Freer grew up in Montana and lives in Ontario, where she is an arts administrator and editor. She enjoys taking photos and being outdoors year-round, and her writing has been published in many journals and in four poetry chapbooks.
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