Jade Carving

Margaret Widdemer

I have a green jade butterfly
Whose wings are lace and stone.
Never, windblown,
Never, ephemeral, shall it waver by,
Its perishable down, its living wings
A part of winds and springs.

Fine-carved, unchanging, exquisite forever,
It is for praise, for gazing; to be worn
Proudly, and shown
Where other still and cold things shine by night.
It shall have eyes to marvel at it, words… but never
Honey or love or flight.

This is a green jade butterfly
With wings of lace and stone;
Never alive,
Never windblown.