Bump

(Image credit: http://redwasp.net/)

Another dVerse OpenLinkNight, hosted by the illustrious Claudia Schoenfeld. Making connections. Here, I make a connection with a red wasp. We are not so different after all. Post your poem and join in!

Bump
In my pickup waiting,
window open to the day,
a red wasp lands
on the dusty dashboard
to clean her legs, rubbing
them earnestly on her
heart-shaped head.
Bump Bump Bump
She tries to take off,
lifting her cinnamon body
upward only to bounce
off the windshield. Again,  
Bump. She pauses, puzzled,
seeing the same blue sky
above, the familiar yellow
pine dust floating, the ordinary
soft air just overhead.
Bump.
With something akin to rage
her stinger pulses, in and out;
and I, with utter gentleness, lift
her to the open window,
knowing what it is
to go Bump.
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32 thoughts on “Bump

  1. You were brave.
    Kind but brave.
    Maybe it was obvious you meant well.
    Glass is such a hazard to birds and insects.
    Bats are getting pretty useless at dealing with it these days.
    Must be the telephone masts interfering with their signals.

    Like

  2. nice connection you make with the bee…and the glass ceilings we all bump into as well…lucky not to get the stinger…we dont always think straight after a few bumps you know…smiles….

    Like

  3. that windshield really can hurt like a …; it was quite kind of you to brave the stinger in order to release the frustration. it would be nice if there was a hand that could do the same for us. and while I could argue with myself and say there is One, sometimes that physical-tangible touch is … I'm not sure what word I'm looking for, so I'll just let it trail off and close with…

    I enjoyed this and though I'm not sure I'd like to “connect” with a wasp, I did feel the link here.

    Like

  4. this made me smile…yeah…flying against glass and being confused why we see the sky but can't reach it…i can relate to this as well…and glad you helped her out again…loved the cinnamon body..

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  5. Thanks Mary–to be honest, I often just smash them into oblivion. I've been stung too many times to feel a consistent pity for them! But on occasion, as long as there is a chance we can coexist without stinging or smashing each other . . .

    Like

  6. heart-shaped head.

    the pleasure I get from such a line
    is measurable by the weird faces
    that I pull!

    I was reminded of one of my favourite Blake poems 'the fly'
    because of the sense of the moment, man and insect and where my mind clears in the spaces of that dialogue.

    cheers nico.

    Like

  7. Thanks Kim. Some of my favorite authors have written about little bugs having big lessons–Aesop, Thoreau, Solomon (“Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise”).

    Like

  8. Thanks R.–most of the time we just leave each other alone, but we have had some violent moments. I have a funny story to tell about one of those episodes. After shave? What's a shave? I'm working on my Lee Sklar beard. (Look him up–all-time best musician beard, puts ZZ Top to shame.)

    Like

  9. Yikes! He is a very good musician…beautiful technique..hand position like classically trained guitarist..thanks for the intro…feel very embarrassed I have never heard of him…what else do you know that I don't know ? 🙂

    Like

  10. Don't feel bad. No one hears of the bassist unless he or she is screwing up. When I first started playing bass he was one of my first big influences, partly because he played on pretty much everything. Incredible timing, his lines flow, never intruding. Maybe I learned something about poetry from him as well! And good God what a beard!

    Like

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