BUTTERFLY
I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME
2/8/11
Copy Write 2011 Gordon Kuhn
Who are you?
Where are you?
I spent the better part of the day fighting for your life
do you understand that?
Yet I don’t know you
butterfly.
I and others dealt with the strife
you dropped in our lives this day
and we worked to help you in life to stay
and yet we know not who or where you are
tell me,
butterfly,
are you close or are you far?
Have your wings found the burning match?
You tumbled out and left the door to your soul standing wide
your fragile wings took to the air
and left us to stare at the empty spot
where you left an opening to read your thoughts
of which in ache you confide
the transformation cocoon you left behind
and your poetry screams out in pain
and now in anger I stand and yell at you.
Damn you!
Damn you
gentle butterfly.
Christ, pills scattered across the table top.
A woman drowning reaching for the surface.
Your video of your daughters left behind
in memory of some happy time.
And mentions abuse and being left and leaving.
It all leaps across the electronic page
stumbles drunkenly across the stage
rushes headlong towards and ending I know not when and
of life and touches deeply hearts you don’t even know.
Do you not even care about the damage you’ve left in your wake?
But the final deed of selfish intent upon us you now bestow
you say
good by
and
good night
as though going out for a walk
and leave us here now with our fright for thee
as the shadows lengthen and the trace of you is growing thin
as we unite and fight and pray for you
but we don’t know your name
butterfly.
Is this to be the last bit of fame?
Is this the end of your flickering flame?
Is this where ends your last song of another’s shame
that left you battered, bruised, too weak to give out your name?
Am I to be your helpless pall bearer?
Am I and the others simple pawns in the fight against death?
Yes, and my anger grows hot at this error
you’ve placed so many of us in bewildered terror
you wish to somehow drop without any shame
yet you stand and cry out in pain
and sweep us up along with you
and I don’t——damn you——damn us
I don’t even know your name.
Is our fight, our battle is it in vain?
Can nothing stop your onward rush
to meet death with out a blush
without a hush
without a——
Oh God,
oh, butterfly
I don’t even know your name.
