THE COLLECTOR

I’m the rare and brilliant butterfly
Whose standout stippling caught your eye.
My gauzy, glossy, gossamer wings,
When compared to newer things,
Weren’t so shiny, weren’t so filmy;
But why’d you have to go and kill me?
Pulled and Pressed and Pinned in place,
Imprisoned in a curio case,
I knew not then but on reflection:
I was a fancy add to your bug collection.