Evening brushed air against moth’s
strong wings and sturdy body, she stretched and then darted around and between
the leaves of gold, yellow and green, leaves tinged with hues of autumn, with just enough color to
camouflage the moth’s rusty stripped wings, to fly, to flit, to land for a
while, just a bit.
She perched in mid flight, what an incredible sight, supping nectar off honey soaked blossoms of brilliant red to cool white, the moth wasn't particular just as long as the flavor satisfied and fueled her tiny body for flight to next stop...until next landing on an old fence post in morning shadows surrounded by warming fragrant fields.
Moth becomes a dormant winged butterfly with leaden body but wings so fast a hummingbird takes shame; now waiting in comfort away from day’s dark furrowed earthy fields of browns, resting in night’s closing hues, away, away from the bright burning rays of day.
She perched in mid flight, what an incredible sight, supping nectar off honey soaked blossoms of brilliant red to cool white, the moth wasn't particular just as long as the flavor satisfied and fueled her tiny body for flight to next stop...until next landing on an old fence post in morning shadows surrounded by warming fragrant fields.
Moth becomes a dormant winged butterfly with leaden body but wings so fast a hummingbird takes shame; now waiting in comfort away from day’s dark furrowed earthy fields of browns, resting in night’s closing hues, away, away from the bright burning rays of day.
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