ACE OF LURES

by Haley Patail

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How dearly the moths wish 
more than the dragging
kiss of the wind, the cool side 
of the leaf, to keep 
the streetlights company: 
& see what they do?

The frantic, baffled press—
cloud of palms that surround
& compound what burns.

Certainly you’ve guessed
what I mean to say.

Not stung
warmed to the brim of glowing
I wave my flags & scald the dark away.

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Haley Patail is a writer and bookseller living in Las Vegas. Her writing has appeared in The Believer and Triangle House Review.