Bend of Light in A Mountain Meadow

No, not likely, or so she seemed

to imply with a nod. A fritillary

wandered nearby, bounced over a lupine

and became lost in indian paintbrush.

We always departed by passing one another

and settling in another part of a meadow.

Some said they all seemed routine

from a certain distance, but we noticed

subtleties in the bend of light

and settled in different hues.


- Kirk Vandyke 

Kirk Vandyke is an entomologist living in Laramie, Wyoming. This poem originally appeared in the Spring 2011 volume of the Jackson Hole Review.