Was worm
swaddled in white.
Now, tiny queen
in sequin coat
peacock-bright,
drinks the wind and feeds
on sweat of leaves.
Is little chinks
of mosaic floating,
a scatter of colored beads.
Alighting, pokes
with her new black wire,
the saffron yokes.
On silent hinges
open-folds her wings'
applauding hands.
Weaned
from coddling white
to lake-deeep air,
to blue and green,
is queen.
May Swenson
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