White Moths Poem by Phillip Ellis
White Moths
The deepness
of night
is offset
in the way that they
glimmer in
the light of
the porch globe.
The pallid gecko
hunts them
across the ceiling,
strikes, then
it swallows, thorax
first.
To leave the light
on...
how they fall
through spiralling feet
to the floor
of the porch.
They shall die
this way or that,
by leaving on
the light.
How I shall hate
to see them die;
I turn it off
so they may fly
away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 9:59:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Phillip, a man after my own heart. Loved the content and the way you wrote this one.10/10 Ian