There is a poem: The Tiger Swallowtail, drunk onMarigold nectar, staggered fromflower to flower, letting me takeits picture in its many poses,recording the accidents of postureas it probed the blossoms, oneafter another. Full wings, bothfront and back, and the furry tigerbody, as it came and went, justat eye-level in the long plasticplanters on the rail … Continue reading Time for Tiger Swallowtails