King David's Butterfly
by P.J. Sauerteig
Even children know about
how caterpillars turn into butterflies.
But few know that butterflies
can, and sometimes do,
fold back into pupas.
I have seen it happen.
My wife looks at me
from the doorway the way
Bathsheba surely looked at David–
when, summoned by strange men,
she stood in the king’s chamber,
curling her toes
on the infinitely smooth granite,
trying to smile, standing still,
and conscious of the steady
drip from her still-wet hair.
My wife stands there in the doorway,
dressed in black,
as if still in mourning,
all these years later,
for the thing that once
blossomed inside her,
then just as soon
festered into wine.
As if, in the unseeable
dawn of life’s light,
it shuddered, turned away,
and melted into salt.
how caterpillars turn into butterflies.
But few know that butterflies
can, and sometimes do,
fold back into pupas.
I have seen it happen.
My wife looks at me
from the doorway the way
Bathsheba surely looked at David–
when, summoned by strange men,
she stood in the king’s chamber,
curling her toes
on the infinitely smooth granite,
trying to smile, standing still,
and conscious of the steady
drip from her still-wet hair.
My wife stands there in the doorway,
dressed in black,
as if still in mourning,
all these years later,
for the thing that once
blossomed inside her,
then just as soon
festered into wine.
As if, in the unseeable
dawn of life’s light,
it shuddered, turned away,
and melted into salt.
P.J. Sauerteig is freshly graduated from Columbia University, where he studied Creative Writing and Psychology. He’s currently back to his home state of Indiana, writing and running the boutique record label, Massif Records. His poetry has appeared in 4x4, Profane Journal, Quarto, The Columbia Review, and others.
A 2016 Pushcart Prize nominee, P.J.'s poem can be found in Issue 13 of Glassworks.
