Fragile spirits of spring moths
This place
is very intriguing.
This virtual palace of mine
is magical!
But I hate to see,
Before my many
Doors and windows,
Dying things!!
Frozen,
Immobile,
So very silent,
Young sparrows and babies of strayed cats
and shells of many a pigeon's egg and their hatch.
Death must happen,
I know!!
But life is very
beautiful!!!
If nasty hours can wait
just a little.
So I can build more stories
and write colorful poems
and help the poor and the injured.
So I can restore
deceitful equilibriums!
My own poetic way!
May be then
I can understand.....why?
Why did I
shed a shying tear?
When seeing a moth.
Flipped upside down.
A fragile soul residing in it,
Simply evaporated?
All that remained,
A flimsy sticky wings
and a tiny body.
It was
my last breath and casually
I dropped some warm ash
from a nasty cigar on it.
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| oldmedina | 
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