The Moth
In the solitude of my garden room
A single moth outside catches my eye
Fluttering in its golden costume
Its flight gone frantically awry
Slowly it flutters toward the earth below
Landing softly without ceremony
It twitches and turns to and fro
Withering in sullen quiet harmony
Suddenly it is still as all life escapes it
Now completely lifeless before me
Its lonely sprit it does finally emit
Becoming one with nature’s canvas of debris
A life has ended with my eyes as witness
And I can’t seem to weep at its death
My feelings leave me frozen and actless
I pause and take a single deep breath
Was that simple moth’s life without any meaning?
Will my passing be witnessed without a trace of a tear?
With these questions in mind I lift the moth from its bedding
And bury it with silent reverence… and an appropriate prayer.
©Copyright 2009 Charles Gragg
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