Clinging to the window glass
with the light from my room reflected
in its incandescent eyes,
the little moth displays five,
and only five, skinny legs.
Why five? I wonder, leaning closer
to count again –
where is number six, little moth?
how came you to lose one?
And will you, like a crab,
grow a new one in time,
as strong and nimble
as the one you lost?
Soldier on, little moth,
may courage
be your companion
while you still
have life.
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