This proves my familiar office,
brandishing a cup of frank
coffee: bittersweet and black.
I had him at his best.
The slug, wrapped in his painful cocoon, emerged with a little encouragement.
And he was beautiful. Magnificent, even. Powerful, but fragile.
Suddenly capable of flight.
But a Butterfly has a very short lifespan
And looking back from a year later, I can hardly recall his brilliant colours.
Slowly fading to grey.
***
*Words by Caroline Morgan
*Photograph by Catherine Scott
Stop, listen, can you hear the hustle and bustle
The cities and streets are alive
Colours pave the way for an international affair
Stop, listen, can you hear the vuvuzela’s
A touch of African pizzazz to gain momentum
Stop , listen, can you hear the clock ticking (more…)