Moth-Man
He sleeps in a straw motel at the top of an empty stairwell,
at night Moth-Man crouches upon a bridge
as silent as stone.
If you follow an oxycontin mule into the woods
it may lead you nowhere,
it is there that you may stumble upon him.
The Cherokee flee before him.
O West Virginia, land of the hoped for
and the hopeless,
we honor your ginseng farms,
your fields of pot, but forget you not
the legendary Moth-Man,
he who flies
as a bat-like shadow
across your moonshine.
© 3 hours ago
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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