2013-03-06T11:56:26-08:00March 6th, 2013|Nature|

Little bug

I absentmindedly
pick at the light
object on my pant leg

must be food I dropped

my peripheral vision says
to my brain

only when it is in my hand
do I see the corpse

severed wing
antenna like the eyelash
I pulled off my son’s cheek last night
and taught him to wish

whisper of a life
spent around light bulbs
mistaking them for the moon

little bug
was it a good one

were you ready
to turn in

were you still here last night
when my husband made me laugh
so hard we woke up the kid

did you lie back afterwards
in the cave of night
like I did and think

how lucky that thorns
have roses

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