Night of the Luna Moths
We had a full moon, mist
and hundreds of luna moths--like hankies
flitting down, or hinged fluorescent palms
an eye under each thumb. Two of us driving
to Shenandoah; moths crowded
in beam of light that pointed to the side.
"What is it, Ed?" First to find
a motorcycle wreck. Just one young guy,
you know how messy these are--
Ed tried to make sure I didn't see
but it was a long night, moon pacing the asphalt,
no phone anywhere. VW bus drove up,
valves out of time. A semi-, a 3/4-ton truck;
gas smell, some kind of electrical fire;
and we were stuck in the middle of a traffic
jam. A trucker called in the cops
on his two-way radio. Then the frogs
started coming out, first one
then another, like the road
was a river and some small boy
was skipping pebbles across the shallows,
another, another, then another. Ed
got right in the thick of it, all six-foot-three
of him breaking the light, bent over that poor kid.
Came back to open the trunk, not a word,
frisked the trash. Went back.
Got into a discussion with the crowd--
Red flashers throb, no more moths, little frogs
back flipped out of the way, not soon
enough for the ambulance to take
off. Back at the wheel
shaking his head; "I gave him
a blanket; but he got scared," Ed
sighed, driving right through
the absence of light.
ISBN 1-59661-149-9
58 pages/$9
Bronwyn Mills has fashioned a luminous bestiary, by turns witty and heartbreaking, which treats of insects, birds and animals, domesticated and savage alike. We, the reading primate, take our place within her compass, but our proportion feels neither too great nor too small, nor are we singled out for special privilege or reprehension. Her love for these, her chosen beings, shows in discernment of particularities, a sense of the fugitive moment, and a witnessed recognition of the other's subjectivity. Taken together, the poems in Night of the Luna Moths form a compendium of truly sovereign creatures, at once alien, and dearest kin. -—Eric Darton, author of two novels and a history of New York’s twin towers, Divided We Stand