2012-09-12T13:17:51-07:00September 12th, 2012|Nature|

The moth

I am the moth
you shoo from your sweaters
and laugh at as I hover
by lamps

but wait and see
the end will come
you all come filing in
a cocoon made of clouds

your faces drop
like bags of rocks

the crumple of disbelief
and regret

there are millions of us up here
darning holes
in the universe

carrying on conversations
with the light.

Read More Poems
Go to Top