Cabbage white in autumn

Today we induct into
the Hall of Heroes a
cabbage white, its

wingspan little wider
than a half-dollar, an
artifact you may or

may not remember:  cool
in the palm, serrated
edges, the sharply

embossed portrait of
a young president
whose life would likewise

be truncated
by the weather
of the world.

(On the coin, he still shines.)

Today we induct into
the Hall of Heroes
this delicate being,

susceptible to the slightest
violence, who faithfully
flies, flutters, floats,

to what tired blossoms
remain, its compound
eyes noting the headlong

approach of multiple
oblivions, yet winging
on, stitching the cooling

air without pause
or complaint, as if
it were spring —

fields of new nectar,
warming sun,
sheltering leaves —

the brief arc of its
small life an everyday
profile in courage.





  1. I second the motion! Into the Hall of Unsung Heroes, of which there are too many to count. -Russ

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow! Great poem to start the day. Did the poem develop naturally as written; the half dollar selected as a size indicator or were they two ideas developed separately and later combined? I’m just nosey today! That’s a good thing, right? Thanks for the poem. Leo

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re welcome, Leo! I was considering how to describe the size of a cabbage white in a relatable way, and while I’m not sure a half-dollar is relatable to younger generations, it is to ours. And then, I considered JFK’s “Profiles in Courage,” so there was a nice commonality there — again, at least for a certain generation. Thank you for reading and commenting!

      Liked by 1 person

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