A Moth’s Escape from Box-Lovers
Those uncanny boxes occupy everywhere.
They don’t belong with the bushes and the trees.
Only the two-leg walkers care;
They use the boxes, but never the leaves.
The box-lovers eat squares,
They sleep on cubes when the big-light fades.
Rarely do they visit the trees, hiding away in their lairs.
One put me in an invisible box, smearing the true world into a haze.
He brings me back to the outside-greens,
Then goes back to his big box.
As dreary as my confinement seemed,
I wonder what misfortune keeps them in cages without locks.
