Shadow
A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly . . . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing'd.
Adelaide Crapsey
A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly . . . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing'd.
At first, the poem gives us a lovely image: a golden butterfly swaying on a red rose. It’s a moment of delicate beauty, full of color and gentle movement. Then the speaker turns inward and shares a startling contrast—another butterfly rests on her heart, but this one has dark, night-colored wings.
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