Pale moth beating pale wings against glass

Will die trying

Die flying

And I watch it batter itself senseless to get to freedom

Tantalus

An outdoors it will forever see but never reach

I watch from just beyond the curtain

Knowing I hold the moth’s fate in my hands

The latch, eye level, is within reach

All I have to do is open the window and let it go free

But I wait and watch

Don’t know what for

But I don’t move

Pale moth tiring, now

Correction: it won’t die flying

Lying, yes, senseless on windowsill

Surrounded by pale dust of its own making

And own undoing, now that it’s gone

I stare at the fluttering wings

Faltering, now

I can imagine its heart pounding from exertion

If it had feelings, fear…pain…anger, maybe

I swallow and look at the latch

Hand goes up

Hesitates

Back down

I close my eyes and count to ten

I will open the window then

Ten has arrived, and my eyes I open

Too late

And I smile strange

Now opening the window at last

To let the wind carry the body away

Giving it the freedom it needs no more.