one by one the moths
find their way into the building,
lose themselves in high corners
and dingy stairwells
cupping my hands I
usher what few I can off
the fire escape, blowing them
to whatever dusty fate is theirs
but more often find stilled
wings, unmoving corpses along
the baseboards beneath
the hallway lights
I think they know there’s
no moon here, but flock
to false incandescence for scant
safety in a poor substitute
but how else
does one escape the spiders?
© Sarah Whiteley
ahhh – love the catch and release to their dusty fate!- I have been moving spiders off the screened porch- granddaddy long legs some how get inside. Hope you are well and the wee beasties are too – smiles – K
The poem made me think of those who flee battle zones seeking some undefined peace.
This is such a teasing poem. It’s about spiders. No it’s not it’s about moths. Oh no it’s about spiders after all. Or is it about something else altogether?!
Your book arrived yesterday by the way Sarah and I have started reading it with great pleasure.
love that you’re questioning what it’s about! 🙂 and so very pleased to hear you’re enjoying my little book! thank you, John!
Sarah – beautiful symbolism here
where the everyday/mundane can speak words for us
so nice to meet you
I like “corpses along the baseboard”…strangely reminded me of my childhood living upstairs from a funeral home….
beautiful poem , Sarah!
thank you! I got your book order and will be running to the post office this morning! 🙂
goodie!! I ‘m looking forward to receive your book 🙂
I’ve been trying to escape the giant spiders I’ve been getting in my apartment. They are huge, fast, and they have enormous fangs. Sorry, the spiders are giving me PTSD lol. I like the poem though.