I wore fingerless mittens
to the mosquito’s funeral,
for, I’ll admit,
I was willing to touch
upon the senselessness
of his death
but found myself reluctant
to explore the ways
in which his mirror bent.
Yet, now
that his consciousness
has become one
with my own
(as I suppose
it’s always been)
amid the chills, nausea
and night sweats
of a temporal existence,
I find I have little choice
but to acknowledge
his magnificence
within my own
and to forgive myself
for his ignorance
as well as the gaudiness
of his summer sweater.
Kelly Moyer is an award-winning poet and fiber artist who pursues her muse through the cobbled streets of New Orleans’s French Quarter. When not writing, stitching, or weaving, she is likely to be found wandering the mountains of North Carolina where she resides with her partner and two philosopher kittens, Simone and Jean-Paul. Hushpuppy, her collection of short-form poetry, was recently released by Nun Prophet Press.
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