I ask the stars is there ever a right moment no good
asking the moon it just questions the tides The moths
are waking They leave the cool of cave take to the
night skies travel the migratory route Lay their eggs
Die The pupae hatch navigate the same path gather
in the billions cavern cavity crevice On the way they
may divert block the light
Lizz Murphy
I tell the moon the time is now
she rises in magnificent silence
I ask the tree for shelter
in her green shawl
Michele Elliot
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