Lying in a clover patch with closed eyes, the speaker feels a light touch brush across her face. She assumes it is a small breeze, notices it pass over her mouth, and wonders idly what kind of wind it could be. There is no alarm in the question—just calm, half-dreaming curiosity. The repeated phrase “clover place” keeps the scene close and intimate, almost like a child’s hidden spot. When she finally lifts her eyelids, she discovers the touch was not wind at all but a butterfly. The poem captures a tiny, quiet surprise: the moment a small mystery in nature is solved. Its mood is drowsy, playful, and gently magical, full of wonder at something delicate passing by.
A Little Wind — Summary
When I lay down In a clover place, With eyelids closed, In a clover place, A little wind came to my face.
One gentle wind Blew on my mouth, And I said, "It will quiver by. What little wind now can it be?" And I lay still Where the clovers were.
But when I raised my lids to see, Then it was a butterfly.