A gypsy moth mistakes
the incandescence
from a bulb
in the porch ceiling
as a sextant moon.
I watch from the rocker
sipping liquor from a jar
in the inescapable heat
sympathizing with why
it keeps knocking its teeth
against the glass.
A gypsy moth mistakes
the incandescence
from a bulb
in the porch ceiling
as a sextant moon.
I watch from the rocker
sipping liquor from a jar
in the inescapable heat
sympathizing with why
it keeps knocking its teeth
against the glass.