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Featured Poetry WWR 54

The moths

Lindsay Zier-Vogel |
November 12, 2025

Sergey Kondratiuk

You arrived
and so did the moths
their tiny dark wings like misplaced punctuation,
like accidental shadows that refused to disappear.

They bounce drunk off the floors,
the walls, governed by night and day—unlike you
unlike anything else in this house
anymore.
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