The Butterfly Pavilion: In the Secret

by Megan Huwa

THE BUTTERFLY PAVILION: IN THE SECRET

Who do you carry with you? I wondered, 

in smothering humidity, where weightless 

winged nobility hovered above us. 

You knelt at the eucalyptus tree’s roots,

in smothering humidity, where weightless,

I hid behind Bird of Paradise, beholding. 

You knelt at the eucalyptus tree’s roots, 

and scattered loose ashes from a marble jar.

I hid behind Bird of Paradise, beholding 

your murmur to the roots words unheard, 

scattered loose like ashes from a marble jar.

Your fingers combed the ashes around the tree,

whispering to the roots words unheard: 

the dead language of lament.

Your fingers combed the echoes around the tree—

May I carry you with me?

MEGAN HUWA

Megan Huwa is a poet and writer in southern California. A rare health condition keeps her and her husband from living near her family’s five-generation farm in Colorado, so her writing reaches for home—both temporal and eternal. A classically-trained pianist, she melds in her writing aurality, rural life, and empathy through those she observes. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Thimble, The Clayjar Review, Vita Poetica, Solum Literary Press, Calla Press, Ekstasis, San Antonio Review, The Midwest Quarterly, and elsewhere. She is also featured on The Habit Podcast and Vita Poetica Podcast. Find her at meganhuwa.com & @meganhuwa.