Butterfly

I woke up this morning and saw a butterfly sitting at my window, quietly. Was she waiting for me to get up? Strange, my window was closed, but she was inside of my room. I approached her and she began fluttering her wings. "Oh, butterfly," I asked, "what are you doing in here?"

I gently took her by the wing, and in my boxer shorts, my eyes still half-open, I walked her downstairs and as I approached the door she flew out of my hand. "Wait," I said, "let me open the door for you." I opened the door and she flew out. She must have been so happy to return to where she belongs, among the lush green trees, the morning mist, the rushing of the creek outside my door.