How strange you appear to my eye,
with powdered wings to bear you aloft
to heights that I will never reach.
Mouthless you left eating behind
with that caterpillar skin you shed.
Do you feel the pangs of hunger?
Those feather antennae direct your life.
They detect the scent of a female
a mile or more away, and off you go.
You live a few brief days
to leave your legacy of caterpillars.
So alien, so beautiful, so human.
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