ENVIRONMENTAL Poem: In response to Annie Dillard’s “The Death of the Moth”, by Sara Goldstein

I kneel to feel
kinship with the
sixteen or so sow bugs
shriveled on the floor.

Moths struggle to free
wings stuck to dusty spoons
leaving their bodies to act as
second scented candle wicks.

Spiders keep company,
spindly legs and sticky strands
weave six inches of webs to
serve sow bugs on a silver
sliver of bathroom
tile.

Author: poetryfest

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