Remade

Amy Ringrose

Recently
I watched a caterpillar
wriggle its way 
along a leaf
chomping
munching

Until it stopped
looking to the open sky,
it stopped to appreciate
the day
Its last day 
in a life it knew

I watched as it
s p u n
strands of silk into
a blanket
warm
cosy

I saw as it fell asleep
happy in its new home – 
being remade and
reborn takes time.
And I waited
I waited
Anxious

Would my new friend remember me?

I watched, the day they emerged,
a whole
new being
the friend I knew had changed

Where they learned to crawl
now they could fly
trying out their newfound senses
of taste
       of freedom
   of self

Tentatively
I give my new friend
a snack –  
not leaves but sugar water, satisfying
their new tastes

I sit, enjoying the day
the new day
the new life
my friend has built.
And when they turn to me,
my eyes fill with tears
because when they look to the sky
I know they remember
what it was to be my close friend 
before
they changed

I watch my beautiful friend
unfurl 
into a kaleidoscope of colours 
they are carried on the breeze,
my memory of them with it

In just a short while
my dear friend taught me,
change is a constant
We change so
we grow
s   t   r   e   t   c   h      o u r   w i n g s, 
Become           something           new

My best friend has made me realise
I hope when I
return to
stardust
from whence I came

I will be able to remember this life
And all those I love in it

The Science

In 2008, a study was conducted to test whether an adult butterfly/moth could remember things it learned as a caterpillar. The researchers trained Tobacco Hornworm caterpillars to dislike the smell of ethyl acetate, by subjecting them to small electric shocks whenever they were exposed to it, training them to avoid that smell due to the association with the shocks. Once transformed into adult moths, the researchers tested whether they recalled these associations by exposing them to the ethyl acetate smell to observe their reactions. 77% of the moths avoided the smell, showing that aversion to ethyl acetate remained despite the nervous system - including the brain - being turned to soup during metamorphosis. This work is inspired by the idea that moths/butterflies retain memories even through such a dramatic transition as metamorphosis, highlighting how little we know about what it means to be 'conscious'. The friendship between the caterpillar and the narrator acts as a metaphor for the smell/electric shocks, while creating a more emotional narrative which draws parallels between our own experience as humans - and friends - where we change in ways that are just as dramatic as metamorphosis, even if not physically so. 

The Poet

Amy Ringrose is a British poet who lives in London, England. With a love of literature as all-encompassing and complex as her love of science, her approach to communicating science to other people is anything but conventional. From poetry to visual art and back around to filmmaking and audio, she is constantly toying with the possibilities art and science offer her.

Next poem: Schrödinger's Ghazal by Russell Nichols