Moth
Flutter a day, a life.
Fleeting glimpses at windows.
Resting little for fear of webs,
Caught in the wind, held in a light.
Shimmering in fractured symmetry.
Balanced in strength
Bled creaming, sweat pouring mercilessly towards machines
Delivered in bites of missed opportunities.
It’s over before it’s begun
The battles not won
A rift in the sand
The wind to drift.
Together in no time;
The chasm is forgotten
Or did it exist,
Imagination
A memory, a thought, an illusion.
True only in a moment
November 22nd
Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2014
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