A Little Wind

By Elizabeth Madox Roberts

When I lay down
In a clover place,
With eyelids closed,
In a clover place,
A little wind came to my face.
One gentle wind
Blew on my mouth,
And I said, “It will quiver by.
What little wind now can it be?”
And I lay still
Where the clovers were.
But when I raised my lids to see,
Then it was a butterfly.