rush hour

parkway on a busy day
hurry from the gym,
off to work,
any siren barely heard
over my radio and my thoughts

everyone wonders,
"did i leave early enough?"
and thinks
"if i make this light, i won't be late"

but, what catches my eye
amid the bustle of normal
is butterfly wings
carrying a transformed
caterpillar
on a crooked journey
across rush hour;

she didn't cause this
parkway hurricane
she just showed me,
for a moment,
the eye of the storm