A banter in my backyard

I spoke to the butterfly telling her
I saw a lizard in the middle
of April at the edge of my garden

and how it was jarred out of its
shaded lethargy by the sprinkle
issuing from my watering hose and

not the traditional mensal showers.
The butterfly flitted her wings at me
which I interpreted as meaning

don’t pull my arms, “They were
April showers weren’t they? ”
but when I looked again at the lizard

now basking on the sun-warmed rock
the butterfly was gone and I knew
what I heard was the air whispering.

poem by Alex Nodopaka (2010)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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