Chagrin

I was sitting on the bench under the cherry tree gazing up through the white bolssomed branches against a late April clear blue sky watching the Swallows darting about doing an exemplary job catching insects, when the flutter of a small butterfly caught my attention as it hovered over the flowers on the tip of an upward reaching arm of the tree, and in a fraction of a thought a Swallow registered on my minds eye where the butterfly had been, leaving me sitting on the bench under the cherry tree gazing up through the white blossomed branches against a late April clear blue sky watching the Swallows darting about catching insects.

by
Maeona L. Urban