I am not beautiful.
More like the Chernobyl accident
than a butterfly unfurling its wings.
I am radiation,
making the surrounding area unlivable,
still to this day.
I am stagnant,
vacant.

But,
if you look closely,
you may find a frond
peaking from its rest,
despite all the destruction around it.
Coming closer to look
may be potentially threatening,
toxic.
But what a wonder to see
such precious life
among a disaster.