10 minutes on an unnamed peak

10 minutes on an unnamed peak,
Greeted by a manic, white butterfly,
Circling me as if it wished
      it were a vulture.
Two flies play to my right,
Buzzing louder than the drone of distant traffic,
While the white butterfly continued
      flying its laps.
Joining the party,
A black butterfly crested the peak,
Until a cold, west wind,
     lifted all away.

 

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