A butterfly flashed
past my windshield
at seventy miles per hour
emerging from the chrysalis
of a pair of low-rider jeans,
its wings revealed from beneath
a billowing cropped t-shirt
while clinging for life
on the back of a Harley
swerving serpentine
around the rush hour
semis, SUVs and sedans
riding the jetstream
of U.S. 1 and disappearing
until I saw it again
a half hour down the road,
perched in the parking lot
of the Bennigan’s
on the clover leaf
to Route 18.

From The Secret History of New Jersey (Northwind Publishing, 2009)
Used here with the author's permission.