I don't like moths, she said.
They fly like they're broken.
Someone should sing this child
a fluid dynamics song.
Sing to her of how big things glide,
and little things swim.
musical scales in a vortex,
a quavering trajectory of eighth notes.
gimbal in the dark.
If this is what broken looks like,
then sing me a moth.
Here comes the wobbly takeoff
wingtipping the balance
between inertial and viscous forces.
Here comes the pitch and roll,
the yawing overshadow of the bigger bird.
Thrust and breeze and pull of drag:
we small weightless things,
treading with wings like rags.
Last night a dream had me.
I shared the air with moths and gravity,
and how my wings were shaking
on the way back down to waking.
Carrie Naughton is a freelance bookkeeper in Jackson, Wyoming who writes speculative fiction, environmental essays, book reviews, and poetry. Her work can be read at Luna Station Quarterly, WordsDance, Star*Line, and NonBinary Review. Find her at carrienaughton.com - where she blogs frequently about whatever captures her interest.
John Hardesty is a 35 year professional driver, amateur photographer, wheeler dealer and part time petunia grower. He's been married to Audra for 14 years and lives in Rapid City, South Dakota. He also makes a pretty good sandwich.