Dead moth elegy

The moth has stopped flying.
The moth has landed
permanently by the fallen
soda can, smushed condom
box, mangled pizza crust.
Did it hit a bus?
O, to bear it dignity.
The moth has stripes
like grill marks, front leg
gone, a lilting forewing
torn like paper, and guts.
The moth is resting
not like a car wreck
bushed in a junkyard
but more like spry
enuf to be fed to the world.

Published by Cassandra

Writer and visual artist. Avid reader, cuddle bunny. Sweetie, I'd love to.

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2 Comments

  1. Lovely piece of writing loved the way you created the the imagery around moth. Thanks for sharing. According to your convenience please do read some of my poems/ writings would love to know what you think about them 🙂

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