Monarchs
Swarms
Of flowing, rippling
Wings
Beating to stay in the air
Determined
To try and try until they can’t
Fiery skies
Filled with orange and black and yellow
Like the sun
Then undersides as pale as the moon
Settling
Onto the trees
Resting
Their delicate wings
Watching
As the moon emerges from its game of hide and seek
As the sun
Lies to rest
And they are
Quiet
Once more.