Lunar moth

In the moments when the privacy of early morning
Becomes the press of impending day
I have just three seconds to catch those luminescent eyes

Actias Lunae wheeling in gentle eddies
Like falling leaves wrapped in tiny concentric orbits
Around infinitesimal gravity
Tiny ephemeral bodies like to blow away
In the determined light of dawn

It makes my jaw ache
The need to hold them in my palm
The flutter which feels just like love

I open the cage of my fingers
Look deep in illuminated study
A pilgrim praying for belief in the things he already knows

In 300 milliseconds the lids dip and rise
With the inevitability of a new day
They’re gone

I’ll wait like a cat till the morning next
When night takes it cloak and bows to leave

I will catch them again, and hold
Till they learn to trust the hand that takes and releases

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