May Swenson

                        Unconscious                               U
                  came a beauty to my                         n
               wrist                                                    c
              and stopped my pencil,                         o
         merged its shadow profile with                   n
      my hand's ghost                                            s
   on the page:                                                     c
   Red Spotted Purple or else Mourning               i
Cloak,                                                                o
paired thin-as-paper wings, near black,               u
were edged on the seam side poppy orange,        s
  as were its spots.                                                         C a m e  a  B e a u t y

                                                                           I sat arrested, for its soot-haired
                                                                           body's worm
                                                                           shone in the sun.
                                                                           It bent its tongue long as
                                                                             a leg
                                                                             black on my skin
                                                                               and clung without my
                                                                                 while its tomb-stained
                                                                                    duplicate parts of
                                                                                      a window opened.
                                                                                        And then I

May Swenson, Collected Poems, Library of America, 2013.