A moth

a moth

the moth, large, brown, exposed in day
struggles to leave the water.

the man, full grown now, bends down,
knowing fragility, extends.

a careful finger to the flutterer
who huffs and puffs, climbs aboard,

the two together to the high piled wood;
the passenger dismounts.

and I am left to wonder: how is
gentleness passed on?

interconnection? the unity of life?
step by step, I’d guess. each step.


Leave a Comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.