Wind shakes the foundation from cellar to roof,
blows out every window, hammers walls until
nails pop loose, floods erupt from every toilet—
the wind never ceases. Its howl fills every room
with white noise. You discover it comes from
within the house and its source is a moth trapped
in a candle bell; flame lit, its wings beat against
an invisible barrier that will not let it escape; candle
spires & the moth beats its wings against the glass;
storm surges, wind bellows, there is no escape.
The tornado that issues tears down the house sys
tematically. Flame only trembles, the moth prostrates
itself against a transparent barrier that cannot be seen.
That it can only feel, willing to do anything to be free.
Peterborough Poets 