Ten minutes last night of frantic flapping on the screen. Then he settles on the siding, unperturbed by flashlight.

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She comes inside for winter, but iridesces all the summer long, oiled steel electrified with color.

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Through her antennae she reaches, three boards higher than last night,
where the Luna moth has parked, on the morning of the next day.

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Ah! She has him!

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Romance that never  may be. Forever shall she yearn and he be free.

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The lovely lunatic is perched, for one long moment.

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Nevermore.

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