WINTER MOTH

Who gave us the right?
To be safely on the inside?
Warmed by comforts fire.
Fed by our provider.

Who gave those the peace?
To fear not,when they sleep?
A body within arm's reach.
The most beautiful of dreams.


Pressed against the window,on the outside looking in.
A fragile moth,ALIVE,in conditions an insect can't withstand.

Too delicate for winter,yet this moth had a secret will.
Does it want to come inside?In from the winter chill?

A creature of this rarity,breathing patterns on the glass.
When let in,and given what most have,it died inside their hands.