Clarence Wolfshohl

Clarence Wolfshohl

Monarch Generation 

for Patricia

“. . . the generation that flies south makes 

a much longer journey than those that 

head north and take four generations to return.”

                    Michel Braudeau “The Glory of the Monarch”

We are like the long-lived generation                                  

of monarchs, from the far northern                          

region of milkweed in which we are born                

and fed into fortitude.  We take wing                                               

in the autumn of our young years                             

on that journey down the Great Plains                      

to the sacred fir of Michoacán.                                 

We hang and glimmer like black metal                    

letters through the long winter, huddled                   

almost dormant, perhaps in trance,                           

until in our old years of spring the fire                     

strikes our souls and we rise orange                         

flames, our wings whispering like a fine                  

light rain in our love flight.