Mid-spring, skinny, black, blind
eastern tent caterpillars-
Malacosoma americanum-
falling from the cherry tree
leaning, human, over our deck.
Irksome. Mash and kick
them with my feet, continue
practicing or reading.
Three weeks later, reading
late at night. Heavy-bodied
black-eyed, reflexed antennae
many hundreds of moths
crave the lamplight, some attaining
extinction through cracks
around the window screen. Vexing.
Until next morning, I look
up the name that has eluded me
all spring and early summer.
The single-minded moth and larval colony-
one small monophony.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem