The enringed planet
Blessed to see what once was a
bright wandering spot, only
a God
They named moths after you.
A whole family of moths
with wings fancy and swept out broad
as the bright skirt
you’ve twirled
about you
A skirt but more ordered.
A skirt but bright only by night.
I dreamt one of your moths
landed on my cheek,
kissed me with sticky feet
and a fluttery brush
but my eyes were closed.
You’re up there, somewhere, but
I can’t see you.
With my eyes closed.
2007
