A Quick Hand

I thought about swatting the annoying moth Circling my table's tarmac So busy, was I, focusing on forgetting you His frenzied flight distracting me Then, I thought better What was the meager moth doing That I, myself, wasn't.... Flapping ferociously Slamming into obstacles Flitting from corner to ceiling In search of something... Exhausting it's energy Determined to keep going Going, but where? Like a moth to a flame I stare at your picture Hoping your hand will not swat me away Maybe instead, allow me to land....