Seems they just appear nights,
Crawling up from basements, stooping
Into air vents and sneaking
Gently along
Paths of dust, searching
For water, and
Looking for hiding places so
Eggs can hatch.
Their red dot gives them
A presence, a scare in the bright light,
As some human crouches into
The bathroom, turns on the light,
Turns it off quickly,
Frightened by big blackness
With that red spot
Hanging from instant webby-filaments.
Electrifying images
Of death, those stories
Of bites so acrid,
So burning, they take
Human breath and turn
It into an ache, a deadly pain deep
In the lungs, the venom
Speeding along arteries so fast,
Humans faint, holding their breath,
Grasping their chests,
The death grip tightening muscles
Until medics arrive
With the serum.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
What I fear more than Widows are brown recluse: been bitten four times by them. *cringe*