This poem is taken from PN Review 53, Volume 13 Number 3, January - February 1987.
Two PoemsThe Ghost Moth
Once we lived so close to the bush
each day wore the beech trees' rangy profile,
all night the creek purred brushing
the antennae of our sleep; in the evening
moths came pouring into the lamplight
some small, blue-sheened, as though it was
light itself combed to dust on their wings
or a ghost moth stared from a doorway
sheathed in its gentle shallow gaze;
and we ourselves seemed diffused, like
the light, and would wander away
past the moths to the leaf-shivering trees
as though summoned in secret
by the morepork's comfortless cry.
That earthy unearthly life is over now
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?