A Small White Moth

I saw a small
white moth like
a tuft of fluffy snow
amidst the summer day
that seemed to struggle
with flight. It labored
upward, then, like a
kerchief on a string,
fluttering and falling,
was drawn down to the soil
beneath a bush. May it
find a good place to rest,
I thought, thinking
it had come to the end of its life.
                                                   Then
later that day I saw
a tuft of white, a moth
I took to be the same, in strength
and in flight, perhaps
earlier what I saw
had been the beginning.

summer 2014