The Year of the Moth



I cannot find it in my heart
to remove the dead moth from my windowsill.
Months go by, the spring becomes summer;
yet I cannot discard of him.

Perhaps it is because I picture his family
making a weekly pilgrimage
to the site of his death.
I see them hovering by my back stoop,
pretending to be mesmerized by my porch light
only to swoop through the door
in order to make the long journey to my bedroom
to leave flowers where he lay.

Perhaps instead I should be picturing his family
frantic with worry and confusion
unsure of what has become of their lost beloved.
I see them hovering by my back stoop,
pretending to be mesmerized by my porch light
only to swoop through the door
in an organized search party
frantically trying to locate him.

I now find it in my heart
to remove the dead moth from my windowsill.
Months have gone by, the summer is grasping onto fall.
I can discard of him, by my back stoop
below my porch light.

The search will be over.
His family will find peace.

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Submitted on May 01, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

55 sec read
1

Quick analysis:

Scheme aBcd bxxEFGxb bxxEFGxd aBbef cx
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 954
Words 186
Stanzas 5
Stanza Lengths 4, 8, 8, 5, 2

Mwalimu

My name is Theresa, I love to write and read poetry. My favourite poet is Billy Collins. I am mainly inspired to write by everyday happenings or feelings, and I often write with some humour or sarcasm. My travel experiences have also influenced my writing, some of my favourite places to travel have been Cuba, Tanzania, Uganda, and South Africa. I was born in Canada but I am now living and teaching in the Middle East. Please feel free to leave comments or suggestions on any of my poems. more…

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