She came to visit in the early spring,
to the rustic cabin deep in the woods.
She took a walk down “Lost End” road,
And found her butterflies of long ago.
She smiled as she watched their fragile flight,
And her eyes sparkled when they chose to lite,
In the warmth of her presence on a dusty road,
Her butterflies of long ago.
Memories of her with the passing of time,
Warm the thoughts of an elder mind.
It was early spring on a back woods road,
When she found her butterflies of long ago.
Copyright © 2011 LeRoy Dean All Rights Reserved