To A Doomed Moth
from WEB-WATCHING

I cannot find you now, alas,

poor creature, hiding in the grass.

Youíll meet your fate next time I pass,


Omnipotent, with my machine.

Annihilation, swift and keen,

will roar and devastate this scene


So peaceful, pastoral, and still

before I came to wreak my will

on what I did not mean to kill.


I hesitate, but do not halt

the grim advance of my assault,

to blame, though it is not my fault.


What is my choice? Iím here to mow.

I meet my obligations, though

it seems itís better not to know


Who pays what price, when dutyís bound

to overrun and conquer ground,

scattering victims all around;


And prudent, surely, not to rue

what canít be helped, except if you

desert, or do not follow through.