I lie on my queen bed or do I lay with my queen? Does my bedroom monarch lay or lie on me? As a monarch butterfly perches on my kingly appointed shoulder, I scamper out of my mailbox kingdom to stand in Golden Gate Park’s golden sunshine. I ceased scampering so a new winged dynasty born from a chrysalis sheath on a cypress branch can oversee their kingdom without a dethroned wind shoving them off their throne. Will that cypress tree get chopped down to make another bed frame like mine? As I wing back to my bedroom, the monarch of metamorphosis swoops overhead.