Words for the Chisel (collection)/Tiger Moth

by Genevieve Taggard

Tiger Moth

Black and Savage, here I lie
Taken by thy symmetry,

Quiet as the little beast
Taken in the jungle midst;

Breathing lightly, lest I stir
Some of thy bold gossamer,

Wanting sleep, where all forget
Dew of terror made them wet,

With mortality come on
And the crying glory gone;

So to wake as we began
Just a woman and a man.