It happened when I wasn't looking:
the paper carcass of the pupa split
and, smudged with black, fragile soft yellow planes
unfolded.
Clinging
to the imprisoning lid
a cabbage moth
lets gravity tug
and straighten her new wings,
and so whole greets the morning
and sleepy-eyed wondering me.
A miracle,
this transformation of
voracious, earthbound carnal flesh
To light.

It happened when I wasn't looking:
you slipped from the world.
I hadn't seen you in a while
And here you are, gone.
Did you, too,
Awake from a long sleep
Prepared to take flight?