I'm alone, except for the dog two hills over shouting a beat into the midnight blue sky. I'm too fascinated by the smell of subtle rust on the skin of my palms, and the feeling of old rain oozing out of the dirt and kissing my soles, and that light whispery breeze giving its best attempt at pushing me over.
I let myself be a moth, drawn to the only warmth in the Blackness, the only reality in the entirety of existence. I draw that darkness around my shoulders like a blanket, and I revel in my silence, in the sleep heavy life, in the dirt on my toes and the stains on my fingertips, smiling smiling smiling.
I pretend that my eyes aren’t heavy, that my brain isn't foggy, and that I'm rising up, only my toes touching the earth now, gravity be damned.
The streetlight is like citrus and singles me out as I stand on the new pavement from last summer. My eyes are fixed to another time, neck stretched out, a lone pillar to the heavens. I was drawn to it (the specks in the sky) and the moon beam traipsing through my window, as I lay restlessly.
The smell of Kentucky seeps into my bones, pebbles of earth are lodged in my feet and I am assured by the waves of wind weaving their way through the winding hills. For just this moment, I am a creature of the night. I belong to this world, and my wings will carry me through the air, (little sound) imperceptible to the slumbering. It belongs to us (the moths) and the dog two hills over.
I wrote this poem when I couldn’t sleep at night. I found myself getting out of bed and making my way into the street. Even though it was past midnight, there was plenty of light from the street light, the mostly full moon and the stars. I felt a bit weird standing in the middle of the road; I wasn’t scared that I’d be hit by a car, but I wondered what someone would think if they saw me standing there, my arms wrapped around my sides staring up at the stars. Truth be told, it really didn’t matter.
I’ve had a fascination with moths for a while. I had researched them to see how different they really were from butterflies; there are very few differences. Basically, they’re just cuter, night version of butterflies. I’m fascinated by the thought of a creature that lives its whole life without harming any other living thing. How could anything be more lovely than that?