The Helmet

For Carrie’s Sunday Muse BlogSpot.

The Helmet
“The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly.” – Richard Bach

inside the helmet the human has turned to sticks.
radiation has obliterated human life.
only the butterflies remain
trying to see inside.
what a wonderful world with butterflies
instead of humans.

 

Winter is Coming

A haibun for Kim’s prompt for dVerse Poets Pub.  The prompt is about insects. I love insects. A haibun is part prose, part poetry. Modern haibun are lengthy. I prefer the original form created by Basho, a more condensed version.

Winter Is Coming
“I love insects. They are amazing. ” Andrea Arnold

I climb up in my tree and listen. The insects in the woods are quiet, except for the cricket making his few chirps before the frost of winter comes to claim him for its own. A last butterfly flits among the trees, floating on the slight breeze. It is the beginning of autumn and all of the insects are going into hibernation for winter. I do not weed the milkweed away from my lawn as butterflies will build their cocoons on them.  Even the bees I keep in my hive are getting ready for winter. There is a mite infesting bee hives, Varroa, decimating the bees. I inspect the hive and carefully catch bees to inspect them. No mites. For now my bees are safe. I feed them extra sugar water and stop collecting honey so they can use it to live over the winter. The cold of winter is coming. Cicadas are burrowed down into the earth, butterflies are in their cocoons, crickets have snuck into our houses and are curled up in our closets snug for the winter, bees are sugar loading for winter.
insects are preparing
for winter – frost will soon
coat the grass

Haiku – 8/9/2019

For my prompt at Wednesday Muse, Sunday Muse BlogSpot – butterflies a haiku

Haiku – 8/9/2019
“When nature moves, butterflies take flight.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

butterflies flitting –
self-propelled flowers –
floating blossoms

Backyard Disco

For the Midweek Motif at Poets Unite – Dance.  I was really into Disco in the 1970’s.  Gay Pride and free dancing were all born in the discos.

Backyard Disco
“Up above my head I hear music in the air that makes me know there’s a party somewhere” – The Trammps, Disco Inferno

Bees go back and forth in
weaving do-si-dos,
butterflies soar and dip,
hummingbirds hover and then zip!
it is a disco inferno in my back yard –
how the creatures dance
and make me dance too