gentle thump on the back door screen;
luna moth fist sized
Ephemeral being with tissue paper wings,
small fans folded against
a soft fluffy body, it waits.
Two small feathery antennae hold alert.
Graceful long drinking straws curl
along its wings. It seems made of vapor
searching for warmth
deceived by this day's gentle air.
It is so still, it echoes incarnations;
long journey crawling toward silken sleep,
painful, scraping escape to fly free,
savor nectar, search for warmth.
It begins to beat its wings.
thrusts itself against the screen,
driven by the miracle of seeking.
|MILDRED TAYLOR, 70, Ligonier, elementary school teacher who retired after 36 years, currently tutors two students. An active poet for nearly 40 years, she is a member of both Pittsburgh Poetry Society and Pennsylvania Poetry Society. She has been published in anthologies. She is Taurus.