Power to force,
I have none.
I cannot make things/
humans happen.

In the hostel,
a tall, narrow window
by my pillow opens
only at the top.
It has no screen.

I wake in early morning
to the sound of
distressed wings—
two monarchs fluttering
by my face, on the ledge,
a metre below the opening.

One climbs to my right hand
when I offer it, stands on my fingertips.
I raise her to the top of the glass
where it opens—
palm out, a gesture of hello.

She won’t go.

I invite the other—
she climbs
onto my left hand.

On my knees in bed
I reach high
with both hands—
a gesture of surrender.

They leave together.

Freeing them,
my only power.

Elisabeth Blair is a writer and editor with an extensive background in music and the visual arts. Her publications include full-length poetry collection because God loves the wasp (Unsolicited Press 2022) and inclusion in Biblioasis’ anthology, Best Canadian Poetry 2025.