my hand in the light

call me moth.
a pale reflection of something

almost lost.   I am like stars overhead

at noon.   I am a white flag in your eye.
whatever does that mean, no,

you, you answer first

else, I am a flicker that you missed.
I am not the moon.

I confess, I like being near to flames.

are you burning my friend?
I get to see Light reflected

back into me.   landing here

I get to know this unseeable face.

I get to know, it’s me.   but

it’s also you.

2 thoughts on “my hand in the light

  1. Wowza. This poem is so beautiful. Those last lines, “it’s me. but it’s also you”—the essence of connection. We see each other, the light in others, we reflect it back and we absorb it as well. Moth to a gentle flame. ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No one everever said Wowza to me before today. This is going in my diary. Thank you Bridgette. I am who I am because of you. But then, that’s true for all of us. Happy Moth Day. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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