The moth skims the window,
wings fluttering, humming in anxious hover motions
over the sill, and delicately trimming
the glass. Amber wings come to rest;
and then once again the skim dance flutter
fly against the glass cage. Powdery wings smudge,
like eye shadow on the lids.
(30th March 2014)
YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poesia"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)
