Overturned
Uninvited dots
of rising sun
riddle my garden
like blood splatter
with twiddling legs
trapped upside down
struggling to stand.
Once, airborne patterns
buzzing on happy feet
tumbling over each other
in unnumbered masses
buttered on summer’s
Tokyo spa beds.
One alone,
fashions a ladylike delicacy
fancy and petite
parading its spotted kimono
on virgin cherry blossoms
heads
Multiplied by nights fireworks,
their excess geisha performances
scar natures haiku,
and foul Zen space
like a garden of goose bumps
by royal command.
These pacific invaders,
impersonate our Lady, Bug.
However, in their abundance
reveal their identities
as Japanese beetles
overturned.
6. May 2006 um 19:46
Musical images fall on my eyes as I read your words. They are lovely. They make me wish to be where you were seeing what you saw.
6. May 2006 um 20:13
Thank you Liz. I appreciate you sharing the effect this poem had on you. I wonder if you wishing to be where I was and seeing what I saw is the result of me not making this a fulfilling complete poem or if it is a positive result. hmmmm. Thank you so much for visiting, I hope to hear from you again.