a compilation of
Winged Creatures fallen from the sky,
collected and coveted by my daughters throughout the years.
None of these butterflies were caught or killed – Their already lifeless wings whirled in the wind, and sometimes literally landed at my daughters' feet, i n a garden or on the pavement, as if waiting to be found and gently laid to rest. Sometimes a lone butterfly lost its way, and got trapped inside our house. Or in our dreams. For we often dream of Butterflies.