At Lake Dimmick,
Question Marks
flew, sunned, folded and unfolded wings,
flitted like leaves
scattered and scattering
on gravel, sand, and grass.
Perhaps many just emerged.
A number looked fresh, bright, whole,
but others' wings were already bitten and torn.
The Internet says to call
a group of butterflies
a swarm,
a colony,
a rabble,
a flight,
a kaleidoscope,
a cloud.
Polygonia interrogationis:
I have no question,
only this exclamation:
O frabjous day!
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