This is so sensitive, deep with feeling and lovely just had to share
As I climbed into my bed the other night,
I found in the sheets a wasp at the end of its life.
The insect seemed to me confused,
desperate for answers as to why it’s body had begun to fail after so many days of reliability,
once-powerful wings, no longer capable of flight,
legs twitching at times without being asked to do so,
senses dulling with every minute,
no word from the hive.
How I wished I could have held the tiny creature in my arms,
and been held just the same,
to have consoled one another in this, the autumn of our days,
as fellow lifeforms,
bereft the distance born the posturing and egos of our time amongst our respective peoples.
How often had we both felt,
in our beating hearts and throbbing…
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