Produced by Dennis Camire

This week’s poem is by Sheila Wellehan of Cape Elizabeth. The poem originally appeared in the “Aurorean.”

 

Winter Moths

By Sheila Wellehan

 

They flock to me at dusk,

drawn to my headlamp.

The winter moths

enshroud me

in soft platinum cloth.

 

It’s long past the hard frost.

Ice glosses every pond,

all the moss.

Invasive moths mock the season

with their frenetic gothic waltz.

 

Next spring I’ll see

this strange beauty’s cost,

as their offspring maul leaves

bottom to top – this stand of old oaks

their ideal food trough.

 

Tonight I forget future sorrow and loss,

float in dreams I’d locked up or tossed,

as they caress both my shoulders,

muss my hair,

kiss my mouth.

 

Winter moths sweetly swarm me –

I’m a hostage of soft.

 

Dennis Camire can be reached at [email protected]


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