I hear the moth caught in the stickied light trap Unable to cry out in a way that I can hear   But the frantic beating of fluffed wings buffets my heartstrings just as well   I ache for it, feel sorrow that it suffers…

As I watched my children sitting underneath the umbrella I wanted to take a picture As thoughts of them being covered came to me Thoughts of they are covered when I am not there Because I have failed to cover them when I was there…