Tuesday, October 01, 2013

Moth

Four in the morning
I am naked
Watching the jet-black moth
On the white bathroom tiles
Unfold its wings
And take off

Seven forty five
In bed, a cup of coffee by my side
I am writing this poem
My wife appears, naked
Her hands cupped
I open the window


We release it to the wild

1 comment:

Sue hardy-Dawson said...

A nice poem, I wonder what kind of moth it was