UnEarth Magazine.

Words by Ru Todd, art by Lucrezia Belpietro.

My mom took me to the park today 
It was sunny out 
So we took the long way home from school 
My chubby five-year-old fingers interlocked with hers, 
These were my favorite kind of days– 
When sunlight wove through the trees, 
illuminating shadowed portraits  
Of worms frolicking in the grass, 
Squirrels flitting through branches,  
The soft song of the afternoon 

At the pond, sunlight caught on diamond droplets, 
Remnants of a duck’s leap into the sky 
My eyes wandered while my feet shuffled through the leaves, 
Jumping, kicking, crunching 
The gentle warmth of the midday light 
Embracing my fingertips  

Then, all of a sudden, 
A purple glint caught my eye,  
A jewel buried among the golden leaves  
The foliage parted, 
And from its depths emerged a butterfly– 
A living sliver of twilight, 
Spurred into flight by my careless pouncing 

My hand reached, 
Yearning to touch that mesmerizing violet, 
To feel that soft flutter against my palm,  
But it twisted and twirled,  
A dancer entwined with the wind, 
Leading me in a captivating tango,  
Always two steps ahead 

I jumped and spun 
Chasing its rhythm, always a heartbeat too late 
My hands outstretched in a plea 
Begging for one more glimpse, 
one single touch 
Running, leaping,   
Weaving between trees, 
Tripping over bushes, panting 
Chest heaving 
Vision blurred with hope 

But then a cloud cloaked the sun,   
And the world dimmed—   
My eyes could no longer catch   
The shimmer of those wings 
The breeze softened, the tango slowed,   
And in the stillness,   
I watched the purple wrapper   
Drift to the ground   

I stared,   
Waiting for it to take flight again,   
For some spark of magic   
To lift it back into the air  
But it remained, lifeless,   
Just a piece of discarded foil   

The warmth of the afternoon   
Slipped from my fingertips,   
And as I looked around,   
The squirrels scurried to their nests,   
The worms retreated to their burrows,   
And shadows crept over the park 

I trudged back to my mother,   
Trash in hand,   
The world now quieter,   
And something inside me a little smaller.