The First Swallowtail of Summer (Poem)

and it was dying on the sidewalk

one delicate wing’s edge half-missing

the black border jagged as if chewed

the bright yellow interior poised

as if to spill color onto the pavement

in one last flutter before utter stillness

such brief resplendence needing witness

there on the sidewalk in silent recognition

then off into the seasonal turn

steps echoing on the cusp

and summer was dying as well