October 18, 2014

 

 

I knew the wasp was dying;

it twitched as if in a haze.

It’s feelers slowly turning,

it’s body, a wobbly craze.

 

I wondered if I should remove it,

but decided to leave it on the bridge,

and let nature take it’s course,

as watching over it, was a midge.

 

 

 

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