Lifeless (or apparently so,) upon the green
And yellowing blades of grass, this minute mass
Of blue and gold (touched by the wind)
Flutters slowly, moving through unseen
Spiders’ webs, but easily does it pass
Beyond their reach and turns to find
Itself alone.

The suddenly alert to the quiet presence
Of a threatening shadows, it dances
First Up towards the sky, now descending
Through autumn browned leaves and thence
Towards the paintspot flowers, chances
On through their fallen petals, condescending
To their touch.

				    1976