Caught a mosquito hawk in my shoe
Put her out on the front porch to fly at the moon
She'd achieved the bulbs over my bed over and over
and below I'd been cooped, ducking her flutter all day
Thought occurred to me
To wonder what she eats,
What she thinks about when she flies at big lights
Does she really eat bloodsuckers,
Or feel hearing or sight,
What's her calling, what purpose? what name?
She bounced off the top of my head a time or two,
Landed on the mirror, landed on the wall,
Alighted on the light fixture and the bedpost and my laundry
She clattered about in the leather of my loafer,
Rattling surprisingly raucous as I closed her in
Confined for a moment, dark for minutes
Battling the hide where I hid her
Then out in the night
in the wild I slid her
I caught a mosquito hawk
In my shoe
Put her out on the front porch to fly at the moon
Gabriel Ballard 2/14/2010
i said this elsewhere, but for the sake of consolidating output with input in one place...
ReplyDelete"Battling the hide where I hid her
Then out in the night
in the wild I slid her"
a delight to repeat!
your rural strains, they never fail to surprise me
"She'd achieved the bulbs over my bed over and over and below I'd been cooped, ducking her flutter all day"
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