“Moth” By: Raymond Kramp

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I watch a moth crawl up my leg
It leers at me with those dusty feelers
I push him away
Send him plummeting into a bucket of water
He takes a dunk
Climbs out of the bucket
Onto the paving
I hunch over him
He seems fine
But I don’t ask him
I watch him lie there
Dustless
And then he dies
On his side
His magic dust has washed away
And I don’t mind
Because I never liked him


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