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I stepped out to mow the lawns and on the grass, was this aging Monarch. His wings were scratched and worn, his body had become detached from his wings. He let me take untold images of him. This one he was scrabbling to hold onto a grass stalk...wanting desperately to take to the skies again, just one last time. I carried him up to a hydrangea flower. He hung there, then fell. I carried him up to Aggies Inn, for one last drink. Just a memory for him as he fell to the grassy blanket below. I gave him a rose to share his journey home. The birds were hovering overhead....reminding me to let Nature take its course. With heavy heart I left him there....and when I came back to mow this piece of grass, he was gone. He did fly home.....didn't he?
Also by Suzanne McGeady
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