The butterflies here look like
the leaves, pairs of yellow-green
wings twitching not from the breeze,
but from volition. This implies
that what lives in a place has survived
because it resembles the land,
the foliage, the light that falls on
this part of the planet’s angled face.
Water flings itself over the rocks
at Old Man’s Cave, and the natural
human response is to join in.
Fifteen-year-old boys peer over
the rocky ledge, then turn to face
their mom back on the ground.
Smile, boys, she yells, and they grin
toward her, bringing fists
to their shoulders to puff up
the biceps beneath the skin. They pose,
then fall, purposefully,
yelping WOOO!, which translates
as A little fear is fun. The pool looks
too shallow to hold them,
but they plunge in and resurface,
grimacing to show how cold the water is.