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Can I thaw a butterfly?
A butterfly of ice.

Do I want to thaw it?
It never came inside.	
Before the winter coldness.
Before I closed the door.

It longs for life in springtime.
It flutters in my dreams.
It waits for me to aid it.
It begs to be let in.

Now should I stay and listen?
Can I understand?
Do I want to save it?
Is there time to spare?

If I held it in my kind hands?
And breathed on it so slight?
Would warmth return to being?
Would wings carry once again?

But if the creature froze up!
And life turned into ice!
If wings became too frosty!
And if the creature died!

Would it be too late then?
Too late to want to try?