Saturday, December 15, 2012


               GYPSY MOTH

I'm at the border
With someone I know
He said that he loved me
But won't let me go.

I stand at the crossroads
My bonds breaking free
He says that he needs me
But won't let me breathe.

The border patrols
Enforcing my life
Can't stand ideas of freedom
In one with no sight.

Boundaries unlimited
But drawn by your light:
A soft gypsy moth
Caught in mid-flight.
     --Shayla Kwiatkowski, 1986

This poem was published in CELTIC FRINGE J/F 1987

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.