At dVerse Sarah is hosting Quadrille with an invitation to write using the word or a form of the word, swift.
“How is it that moths speak to each other. They tell their love across the fields by scent. There is no mouth, the wrong words are impossible, either a mate is there or he is not, and if so the pair will find each other in the dark.” Barbara Kingsolver
Ever Seeking Darting, you seemed aimless, fluttering, turning, round and round across the indelicate soils of mischance in the fading western light, where once you sowed havoc in the darkened layers of life, just a humble swift moth, ever seeking her feathered light in the night. ©Paul Vincent Cannon