Poem 009: Moth on the Window

It’s a moth on the window,

trying to reach light

separated by glass pane,

a wall holding back small body

in the glow-speckled dark

from what lies ahead.

A brightness cascading

in precise angles,

warming at the edges,

clarifying what the speckles

won’t illuminate.

The moth doesn’t know

the tangles of glass,

the unyeilding translucence.

It doesn’t know how to pass

what all seems to be so


Okayyy. The language in this poem is struggling to say the least. It’s not all flowing in the same vein, which makes it feel off. There’s phrases I think sing true to my style like “glow-speckled dark” and “tangles of glass,” but there is a distinct inconsistency to the voice of this poem than is in my usual work

I also think there’s distinct skips where I could dive deeper and expand the image, be generally more evocative. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s clunky, but I think it’s clear I could take more time with it and explore the lines I haven’t written yet. There’s definitely more to this poem. That’ll be fun during revision!

This poem makes me think of Cocklebur (my poem Threaded did too!), in that there is this It one can assign value to, regardless of what my intentions for it may be. I sort of like that quality. I think it can either stump a reader or let them immerse themselves in the poem by establishing their own intimate meaning to the It.

008: Threaded – 010: Coming Soon