Personal Poetry: Motheaten

Friday, August 29, 2008

Motheaten

Motheaten My motheaten, threadbare life Stands outside the door It has a key, but stays As the moths light upon it Their white wings enmeshed In the fabric of its night Waiting until the threads are all eaten The moths become the garments Then fly away to another, once bright life To leave mine bare... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by cpklapper at 8:23 PM | add or view comments (7) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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The title of this blog is a reference to "Doctor Zhivago".

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