Wednesday, April 25, 2012

FIRST LESSON IN SHIT DISTURBING




On a ramble
down the creekbed

I kicked a log
that spanned

the stream.
From an unseen

orifice in its
underside streamed

a host of irate
white jacket

wasps. I froze
and watched

them buzz about
my knees

and rubber-booted
feet for what

might have been
an hour. One by

one they retreated
to their hidden

hive, my heartbeat
slowing one

by one, until
the last wasp

disappeared inside
and I paused

one beat
longer—then

kicked the log
and ran.






1 comment:

Ruca said...

Nice one! And it's SO you, although I don't think you always run away.