Elegy for a Moth

I one day caught a star in the night’s sky.

with a crooked finger I pulled it through the clouds it called home

only to use it as light for my writing.


on the desk a moth landed on my new star

left a light dusting of itself on the star’s skin, giving off smoke.

I knocked over a cup of pencils and pens to swipe at it


the smell of the moth’s legs kindling on the star

turned my stomach every which way. my heart sat bone-caged above

worse for the wear, I’m afraid, rabbiting about


my star bitterly melted the cap of a spilled pen, and I

watched the moth burn in the molten plastic as it pooled around it.

I returned the star to its home in the clouds. I wrote by the light of this burning moth


I used the pen it died in. I wrote of the star it died for.

its short life smothered, and all for the glow of a stolen star.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s