My heart beats and I remember
that quiet boy on the swings at lunch
who raised a butterfly hand in September;
roll call and his fingers fluttered
All the way back in September, I remember.

My heart beats and I remember
that polite boy with the book under his desk
who laughed quietly like a butterfly in October;
for him, the words flew across the page...
Those days in October, oh how I remember.

My heart beats and I remember
that lip-biting boy with drawings in the margins
who smiled when i called his name in November;
his pages were filled with flitting creatures...
That pure time in November, yes, I remember.

My heart beats and I remember
that brave boy with his warm rough kisses,
who hugged me through dark days in December;
sometimes he looked lovingly at something not there...
That tiny infinity in December, well, I'll always remember.

My heart beats and I remember
where my butterfly used to sit and draw
and how soon after he disappeared in December,
they found his shattered wings on the train tracks--
Though I try to forget, I'll always remember--

My heart beats and I remember
Those butterfly days back in September.