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Night Moth

From the bright colored cocoon he emerged,
with golden spots on chocolate brown velvet wings.
Fluttering around in the early night’s moonlight,
searching, searching for a mate on which a warm
summer breeze may bring.  

From tree to tree on gossamer wings he glides,
searching, but only to find a mate that trifles
with his affection and flutters away and hides.

The night grows short and the golden spotted
moth’s search for a mate is lost, love will
not be his tonight or ever for he has been
spurned and his love is the ultimate cost.

Into the door of a lonely cabin he flies,
around the ceiling he glides. On the
rough wooden table a candle burns
the orange flame flickers and turns.

Life without love is hollow and silent.
The night moth realizes his fate will be violent.
Into the candle flame he’s drawn on gossamer
wings of chocolate brown, never to wear love’s
golden crown.

Jackie R. Kays

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