Today's poem is by Lindsay Wilson
Wasp in a Trap
What trick is this thing with no escape,
this plastic cone hung from a branch?
The wasp had followed the sweet scent
through the air's various tripwires,
and believed it found a heart, a host body?
Attraction is as natural as repulsion,
but what force keeps it crawling here,
an instinctual scent, or a trapdoor, a way out?
Because I haven't found my way out of a body
since birth, because you've taught me to look
at all of the world as a trap, I now understand
I crawl for your sweet lures, and that escape
from your plastic heart never flowered,
even briefly, within my insect mind.
Copyright © 2010 Lindsay Wilson All rights reserved
from Harpur Palate
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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