11.06.2008

Two Deaths


The dead moth’s eyes see only silver mist.
Her body is a tiny paper heart in my hand,
A valentine in white fur and sickly green silk.
She curls on the dashboard of my Honda,
The one real thing I have touched today.
Motor oil singed one spot.
Her arms bend to grasp but nothing fills
Her stiff embrace. I have no glass casket
Worthy of these cold wings, and she stays
Overnight in the car.

Where the bedroom wall meets the ceiling a fly flails wildly.
Sometimes in silence, more often with the buzz I only hear
When the lights are off.
I do not see the spider who will stun him,
The siren who will suck his black life out into thin air.
I hope she is nearby, that this inelegant,
Crude death is not for a host long-gone,
But the sheer nests near the ceiling have been
Empty for some time, their contents fading
All for nothing.


photograph by flickr user pinkpoppy

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I had a yellow jacket or wasp or something of that nature die in my car once. It was in the back window and I left it there for over a year because I liked how it looked. I also found it interesting to watch it as it began to decay over time.

~Pam

Kate Horowitz said...

That moth is still sitting on the dashboard of my car. Sometimes (and you can't tell anyone this) I talk to her lifeless body. My commute is sad and lonely.


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