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| Beetle |
That beetle I saw
while I weeded in the lush and
neglected flower bed -
I parted the growth to pull up
the tall grasses, weed them out.
And there was
moving over the cloddy ground
every leg using everything it knew,
through tall stems of weeds and
under a high canopy of perennial flowers
in bloom -
He had a portfolio tucked under
his wings.
By his walk
it was plain he carried
all the secrets of his clan
with him.
A field of memories
too big to leave behind
sent him out.
And here he has found his field of plenty.
Its where
I do my gardening.
Ill say this:
I wont be the one to
shut this beetle out of
what was promised since
the rocks began to
stand still
and the wind
brought its first soothing songs
on the air.
If there is any rejoicing here
we will all do it
together.
In the shadow of grasses
of valerian
geum
foxglove
and wild yellow buttercups
amid mint
and sweet woodruff,
beetle goes along.
The afternoon light warms
the path he has taken,
and I hear picnic talk - and
if I listen long enough
I can hear small accordions.
The stories they go home with!
The longer beetle
is here, the closer
our stories
become.
The weather stamps us with
its seal of approval.
You are qualified to
linger a while longer.
Sit down.
Write your letters.
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