Moth Fowlers

Well, what do you want to study?
If you study numerous things,

You may fetch many in your nets.
If you prefer to glimpse the rare,

Expect to spend more time waiting
Patiently than observing them.

Poets prefer the exotic,
Mostly, the species specific

To vanishing ecosystems,
Highly endangered memories,

The once-in-a-lifetime event.
There’s lots of downtime between poems

More elusive than snow leopards,
Similarly near mystery.

There’s a few impatient poets
Who work on thoughts common as moths,

String up their ghost nettings each night
In ordinarily dark woods

To lift the delicate at dawn,
Make a census of everything

That blunders into their webbing,
Then estimate what’s going on.

Sometimes they do get a rare one,
But who’s transported by a moth?