Damp Wings

While watering
Red salvia
Petunias
By accident
I wet a moth

A pattern
Of tan
On its outer wings
Sliding out
Showing intimate
Inner rose

It turned its wings
To the wind
And the sun
And began to flutter

Not the flapping
Of flight
But a drying
Tremble

For minutes
As I watched—
The droplets
On its body
Shrank

The dampness
Of its wings
Invisible


--Avocet, 2000