Segovia & Fuzzy Moths

Take me to light infused shadows swaying
just before dawn & I will
see the dazzling moths that tremble
at my ragged porch screen like Segovia’s
fingers creating vibrato.  Do not

disdain them.  Some say the furry
creatures enchant & beget
small doorways & if you can hand
your fear to them like a little
bible, they will bless you
with night trips, take you to rare
& sometimes faraway places. Over the rushing

river to the rest stop by the prairie
dogs, over the barbed wire to a quiet
cafe lit with blue neon. Before
you know it, with the ruffling
of their patterned wings, you are flying over
a jagged mountain range to a dusty
barn outside of Yakima. You are
on an Ecuadorian train from Quito
to Cuenca & back home trudging
the Kentucky mountainside looking
for goldenseal, wild orchids & stinging
nettle.   I have spoken

to you of Segovia’s hands.  Do you
know they looked ordinary, a little
puffy even? When he placed
them gently on the nylon strings of his 1914
Ramirez, his left hand wrapped
around the black ebony fingerboard & the long
journey began. Just like the fuzzy
moths his fingers formed
entryways, openings & escapes. Remember
always, there are passageways
& gates. They are hidden but never
go away. Search at dusk, listen
closely for vibrato, tremolo,
the ruffling of moth.