Bleed and Breathe

Older

I once knew recklessness.
Curiosity compelled me to bound
through a thorny thicket,
pursuing a white moth

that fluttered and dodged
about the tangled barbs
with a grace I longed to dissect,
but these branches twisted thick,

bit and stung, taught me how
to bleed and breathe.
Now, when the moth,
with its powdered wings,

sparks the shadows
with its familiar waltz,
I watch until it curls
from my sight.

Then, I’m happy to settle
on the soft earth
beneath a burly elm
and imagine the moth

has found its perch
beside the imp
who asked it to play.

———————————–

Inspired by a WordPress Daily Prompt.

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