The moon's light
Breathes through the wind
And it reflects
on a pond.
Owls cooee in a
clarion way and
crickets chirp In a seismic contralto.

The stars twinkle with
the blinks of owls,
the trees waves with
the flaps of bats
and frogs croak with the
footfalls of the waters.

But then, flapping around
a light bulb, is
something decorated with
an ember scent.
Such delicate Corduroy,
Something that is copiously
gifted with beauty.
A beauty fly.
That flaps with the
similtude of a windmill.
It is adorned with
wings that swirl the
fists to terra firma.
Moth.



© Ezekiel carr