Hawkmoths at Evening

The dust path like a brand.
The dark joins hands. And quick
resplendent hawkmoths land
on windows grey as brick.

A plea sinks on night’s sill –
such longing and such hurry.
And peace, a forest well,
speaks out of your long worry.

From bends of clouds are blown
these deathly lilies, blooming.
Cursed gift of gold, just one,
the far moon gives, illuming.

The peace at evening time
plights great death with these flocks.
Street windows, graves in line,
this key of fire unlocks.

Project Details

  • Date June 23, 2015
  • Tags Hawkmoths at Evening