For Ben Godfrey
I awakened today to the frenetic clamor
of a desperate wasp at destiny’s gate
thrashing between my blinds and window.
(Surely Kafka’s bug had fared no worse).
Emerging from my soporific haze,
I released my back door latch
to clear a portal back to liberty.
But all hopes for a nobility rush
faded to black when I found her -
comatose on the bedroom floor.
Placing her shell on an envelope,
I ferried her through the open door
to rest in state on my back porch rail.
BUT HOLD THE REQUIEM FOR A SPELL!
She wasn’t quite so done as feared.
As if by cosmic intercession,
she suddenly twitched her wings,
and soared into the morning sky.
My elation mystifies me just a little.
After all, who cares about a lowly wasp?
Yet for one frantic insect,
how could anything matter more?
© 2017 by Robert Charles Howard
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
For Ben Godfrey
I awakened today to the frenetic clamor
of a desperate wasp at destiny’s gate
thrashing between my blinds and window.
(Surely Kafka’s bug had fared no worse).
Emerging from my soporific haze,
I released my back door latch
to clear a portal back to liberty.
But all hopes for a nobility rush
faded to black when I found her -
comatose on the bedroom floor.
Placing her shell on an envelope,
I ferried her through the open door
to rest in state on my back porch rail.
BUT HOLD THE REQUIEM FOR A SPELL!
She wasn’t quite so done as feared.
As if by cosmic intercession,
she suddenly twitched her wings,
and soared into the morning sky.
My elation mystifies me just a little.
After all, who cares about a lowly wasp?
Yet for one frantic insect,
how could anything matter more?
© 2017 by Robert Charles Howard
This poem is for Ben Godfrey who observed this scene first hand and suggested I express his delightful story in poetic form.
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