Moth to Moth what do you talk about at the light?
Batting your heads over the lamplight saving darkness
do your wings speak wing upon wing each flutter speaks?
You are fragile tracing paper thin
easily a berry between two long fingers
But you dart about busying yourself
Searching for the light the heat
the lumination of some purpose
which only moths know and talk about
in moth think and moth talk and moth love
perhaps the pursuit of safety
but why is the light so maddeningly important
you hover there like late buddhas a float
in the air of time?
trapped in moth size
screaming toward the light
clip my wings and make me larger than life!
I don’t want to be a moth anymore!
Ah! Ah! What a serious lot of nonsense.
mistaking lamp bulbs for flower heads?
is that what you’re doing?
you remind me of a certain someone species
a certain civilsed manwomankind and they appear
clumsy
foolish
in that heart of the matter like you
but they turn the light off and go to Sleep…