Prelude to Winter
The moth under the eaves
with wings like
the bark of a tree, lies
symmetrically still—
And love is a curious
soft-winged thing
unmoving under the eaves
when the leaves fall.
— William Carlos Williams
Serena Fox: This poem hasn’t left me since it entered a found poem I have been working on for several years. It is beautiful. It is what it reveals— symmetrical, still, soft-winged.