A tiny white moth
Fluttered up out of my lap
I was just sitting there
And watched it rise and disappear
Was it an exhalation of my soul
Another hinge unfastened
Or nature being magical and drole
Like a coin pulled out of the air
By an invisible hand and smile
What if such things are always going on
And we only rarely notice them
Like yesterday a tiny ship
Flew up out of my head
Who knows for what voyages or end
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