The Corner

Like a child, mind
wants to play, but
even the butterflies
are on the clock.

Still, attention is happy
to comport
with the swallowtail
as it jerkily
rounds the corner.

Like a child, mind
follows, imitates.
First and last
it loves sequence.

I’ve counted up
to one this season.

More Poems by Rae Armantrout