April Mire

Today's post shares a poem by Robert Frost, called "Blue-Butterfly Day."  It is a favorite spring poem of mine, and I am pairing it with a couple of my photos.  Maybe like me, you have noticed that the butterflies are back, zigzagging over the grasses and stopping at all of the early blossoms.

Blue-Butterfly Day

by Robert Frost

It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,

And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry

There is more unmixed color on the wing

Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry.

But these are flowers that fly and all but sing:

And now from having ridden out desire

They lie closed over in the wind and cling

Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.

I've always loved that final image - "Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire."  I've seen the muddy ruts left behind after a vehicle has passed by and how, as the noise of it fades away - the insects and birds return to the new puddles in the altered terrain.