Sky Wizards

Jessica Lee McMillan

The pigment of movement                      and gesture of wings 
slipped in the process of naming butterflies,
starting with Linnaeus's Lepidoptera taxonomy then British soldier's 
pronoun militia of Captains and Majors and colonial Monarchs,
all failing to define                                their miracle of flight.

But the commoners named the                                   

                                          W
                                          I
       Wood Nymph            Z        Hoary Comma
                                         A
      Zephyr Comma          R        Mourning Cloak,
                                          D

breaking rank from Admirals to fairy folk with Nymphs 
                                                      and Cloaks and ether-things

liberating grammar with Commas
                        who punctuate the skies. Adverbing it with paint       
in the shape of moth and butterfly 

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,hoary slow and zephyr swift,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Yet even a layperson's              onomatopoeia of flutter and flit
betrays how the butterfly contracts into itself            and twists 
in figure eights 
                                                                                 beating the air 
with enough surface tension to clap and click
                                              in a plosive miracle;
                             they                                                     pro-pel.

The papillon/projapoti/mariposa juxtaposes blue, 
                                           expels atmosphere from cocoon 
to a sky not ruled by latin, grammar         
or rote tune,

              for the word and the wing are instruments of motion

sky wizards                     renaming 
                                                                                      sound 
on the way to the next patch of milkweed.

The Science

The poem contrasts scientific naming versus laypeople's apt and whimsical naming of lepidopterans (an insect order containing numerous species of butterflies and moths) ultimately revealing how both fail to capture the misunderstood physics of their flight. The renowned Swedish naturalist Carl Linnaeus pioneered the system of scientific classification in the 18th century, laying the groundwork for categorising species systematically. Linnaeus's efforts to name species was admirable, yet the edge of naming is an authoritative system of classification that would dictate how we perceive creatures in the world. It is akin to grammar or “The King's English” colouring the very medium of our expression. Militaristic naming echoes this colonial structure and privileges rank. Ultimately, these naming systems fail to capture the way creatures move through the world. In the case of butterflies, colloquial gestures may come closer, but language ultimately fails to capture the miraculous science behind how they fly. I think this is a problem best interrogated by poetry and science in tandem. 

The Poet

Jessica Lee McMillan (she/her) is a poet and teacher with an English MA and creative writing certificate from SFU’s The Writer’s Studio. Her work has appeared in over 30 publications across Turtle Island including Crab Creek Review, The Humber Literary Review, Funicular, Pinhole Poetry. Her recent collaborative chapbook intent on flowering was published in 2024 via Rose Garden Press. Jessica was a finalist for The Fiddlehead’s 2023 Ralph Gustafson Poetry Contest. She won the 2022 Royal City Literary Arts Society Write On! Contest for Poetry and has received poetry nominations for the Pushcart and Best of the Net. She lives on the land of the Halkomelem-speaking Peoples (New Westminster, BC) with her little family and large dog. jessicaleemcmillan.com.

Next poem: Sourstuff by Finlay Worrallo