Yesterday; no seminal regrets,
no carping incantation of idiots
who’ve yet to prove they’d ever
be otherwise – a slew of no surprises
unless you count a hornet attack.
And I attacked back.
My back is flushed with lush
embellishments of their well
directed venom, intended to
steer me clear of their territory.
They died a glorious death, nest
laced with deadly remembrances.
And the hens, our prize breeders,
talked to me one-on-one; a young
pullet questioned her destiny,
suggesting, maybe, we could
broker some arrangement.
I said I’d have to get back.
The week’s pick of avocados rests
in the packing shed, boxed, ready
for market; the wife lies abed, relaxed,
reading a novel. “All’s Well in the
World”, the crows say vociferously.
– Hello tomorrow.
© I.D. Carswell 2005
