Last Hurrah
Lots of little moths are flitting
Near the bushes and the trees,
Such a frenzied sort of flutter,
They might stir a little breeze.
Some are solo, but more likely,
Most are traveling in groups,
Do-si-do-ing through the flora,
Doing crazy loop-di-loops.
In some spots, they’re like confetti
Which the wind has set a’whirl.
Guess their instincts have informed them
They’ve just time for one more twirl.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
