-I told mothchild it could just run away
climb the old oak tree
hide in a house held by branches
where it could stay-
Mothchild has grown some beautiful wings, but it can not fly. Until one day it discovers a mysterious light beyond the forest and decides it is time to go off on adventures to find it.
Poetry on growth, reflection and the path to adulthood.
© Aivi Feiler 2024-09-05