Secrets: So Zip Your Mouth

Butterflies must be on my mind lately, as I savor these last wonderful warm days.

Secrets: So Zip Your Mouth

The Swallow-tail told me his mother told him
that before he was born, his parents would
flutter about and land on
some kind of poop on forest service roads
just west of Lake 22 in northern Minnesota and that
cars would stop and people would marvel at the scenc.

            But his mother didn't tell him why.

The Swallow-tail told me that when he
emerged from his chrysalis, he couldn't
drink or talk because
the two sides of his tongue hadn't yet
been zipped together and that
even worse -
his wings were all deflated and crumpled.

            But the butterfly didn't tell me why.

I so wanted to tell the Swallow-tail
that I could identify with his "tongue-thing" and
not being able to fly, but -
for the life of me, I couldn't  figure out
where his ears were.

            So I told him anyway.

That when I was in first grade,
I never said a word. I talked OK at home
but never in school.
A while ago,
before I was almost seventy, for safe-keeping
my mother gave me my end-of-the-year
first grade report card.
Inside, my teacher Daisy Rose
had wirtten a comment.
"Clemens said his first word today."

I figure the Swallow-tail will keep
his mouth shut and tongue zipped
about my secret.

            Because now I have voice and can fly  .