Landing on the Lantana beside my driveway and posing, a Passion Butterfly

Then when I was distraught
And could not speak,
Sidelong, full on my cheek,
What should that reckless zephyr fling
But the wild touch of thy dye-dusty wing!

I found that wing broken to-day!
For thou are dead, I said,
And the strange birds say.
I found it with the withered leaves
Under the eaves.

– From My Butterfly: An Elegy (published in 1894) by Robert Frost, American poet (and willower)