Moth, Bug Off!
10 March 2015
In my dry bathtub stall
There was a moth on the wall.
It had a pretty wing span
In shades of brown and tan.
“Poor moth,” I cried,
“You’re supposed to be outside."
The windows all had screens
Obstructing any easy means
Of releasing the moth outdoors
To fly in nature’s corridors.
I picked up a flip-flop
And with a very loud pop
Brought a instantaneous end
As the flier was flattened.
This blog is about my life as reflected in rhyming poetry, observations and occasional rants. The title is Latin for "information and errs" or loosely translated "hits and misses." Wilson Arch photo courtesy of James Muhlestein.