moth kerry mother and i walking in sandals to the bathrooms towels under our arms bags of toothbrushes and soap we passed by irish setters and campfires and glowing cigarettes, murmurs and dark tents and excited conversation. the ground is black we cannot see where we are stepping and it is a tentative kind of walk like when you cannot see the stairs you are trying to climb stumbled upon the bathroom the screen door shut, huge and beautiful moths, white and black speckled wings, i stare with my mouth open she jerks the door open and they flutter away 030109 what's it to you? who go blather from