Death of a Moth

i was never allowed to have pets when i was growing up.

they said that i couldn't be trusted with them. and they still tell me that.

but i would always smile & make silly faces whenever i saw any animal.

i'd let out weird noises
sounds of my happiness
and then they'd look at me strangely.

i was told that it wouldn't be wise to let me have a pet. they think i wouldn't take proper care of it.
but i know that i could.
i did.

they never found out about my one real pet:
it was only a moth and i didn't have it very long...

every time i took it from the big box which i had poked with holes, it would just sit there. it would flutter around for just a second, then it would stop.

i'd get tired of shaking the box, so i'd put the lid back on and place it back under the bed.

it died.

i knew exactly what that meant. i had seen dead things. there was never any mystery. i was not sure why things died, i just knew that they did.

so i buried my moth in a vacant lot near school...

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Matte Elsbernd
copyright © 1995