Poetry

---

My prose to-day is about a little moth,float on top of my water's pot;
remained motionless and still;left it rest on Finger's Hand,let it down on
cuppord's top,slowly crawled into some bric'a brac;to make its way
where some fabrics lay,and in its time fly around where a light bulb do
shine,it may well thrive and stay alive;about a Moth in a pot,do they swim
or not,its wish too live and give Life a try;Wings may lift it where clothe's
line stay,from a little Moth who got into water's way;survived to live on
what Fabric's give,an insect act's to some stimuliprefers to live what does
it mean too die,time slips away says amen each day,i pray,what would moth'y say.
 Joe.

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE