Actias luna LbNA # 6545
|Owner||Solor & Binx|
|Placed Date||Nov 22 2003|
Spread your wings out, ‘cross the night sky,
Seeking your mates before you die.
Four eyes seeking…watching…spying.
Soaring o’er a sea of laurel,
By old paths of the Mohawk people.
Fires flickering…inviting…on the hill.
Swooping up past the parking lot onto the road,
A brown structure…the forest caretakers’ abode.
Burbling stream…clear and quite cold.
The upper road beckons you closer and still,
Bright-lit encampments ward off the night chill.
Alighting nearby…granting humans a thrill.
Passing the cut-off, float like a kite,
Going right on the mountain way, up to it’s height.
Passing two trails interceding from right.
Paused by a clearing you sense approacheth your death,
Flutter on up the grassy trail, away from the west.
Seeking the darkness and rest…yes, a rest.
Five minutes more you press on til you see
A quadruple stump, left, that’s the base of two trees.
Behind, a green disc points the way thirty-three.
The end is in sight at the end of your count,
Your short life is using reserves from its fount.
Open sky above stares blandly down.
Miles northeast, for one who is keen,
An inselberg of fame could be seen.
If you could see through the forest and through the trees!
An X marks the spot to the left of you now
Two birches lying crosswise…to the end of one go.
The base of the further one is least likely to show.
Fold your wings in from the night sky;
So short a journey…only to die.
Your image lives on for others to find.
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