Posts Tagged ‘moth’

Even Tonight

In the dark window

twenty pale moths flutter and rise.

This is what moths

are made to do,

to fly toward what they want

and not give up.

In the kitchen light

I watch them crawl

across my reflection.

I imagine flying

toward my own light

and never giving up,

yes, burning all my

excuses, all my stories,

flying into that flame.

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You are nothing but materials for burning
—Dorothy Walters

I wanted to be
somebody, not
just somebody
but somebody
wonderful and
preferably thin.
I wanted to be
somebody loved
and loving, someone
worth listening to,
someone fun, and
for forty two years
I built her into
a me, but she
is just a heap
of labels, a pile
of shoulds, a
list of pretty knowns
and fueling the one
who wants, there
is the one who is.

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