fickle memory

in the backyard she pranced and frolicked
six year old, bubbly, and vivacious
swishing her net after the waltzing
floating monarchs and when she finally
landed one in her net, her dazzling
giggles reached heavens, her face was lit
with an infectious kodak moment

the prisoner was put in a jar
covered with a holed paper lid
all evening long she talked with her
at bedtime i kissed and tucked her in
the jar placed on the table beside
- the monarch needs her sleep too

i told her, while telling myself to
set her free when bubbly was asleep
but when i came to fetch the flitter
it had flown to another garden
………me and my fickle memory