After D.H.L.


Your first thought when the light snaps on and the black wings
              clatter about the kitchen       is a bat

the clear part of  your mind considers rabies       the other part
              does not consider       knows only to startle

and cower away from the slap of  its wings       though it is soon
              clearly not a bat but a moth       and harmless

still you are shy of it       it clings to the hood of the stove
               not black but brown       its orange eyes sparkle

like televisions       its leg  joints are large enough to count
               how could you kill it       where would you hide the body

a creature so solid must have room for a soul
               and if  this is so       why not in a creature

half  its size       or half its size again       and so on
               down to the ants       clearly it must be saved

caught in a shopping bag and rushed to the front door
               afraid to crush it       feeling the plastic rattle

loosened into the night air       it batters the porch light
               throwing fitful shadows around the landing

That was a really big moth       is all you can say to the doorman
               who has watched your whole performance with a smile

the half-compassion and half-horror we feel for the creatures
               we want not to hurt       and prefer not to touch

Copyright Credit: Craig Arnold, “Very Large Moth” from Poetry (March 2013). Copyright © 2013 by Craig Arnold. Used with the permission of Robin Arnold.