Walking stick

Posted on September 24, 2008 by Dave Bonta

The walking
stick picks
its way
upside down
along the
underside
of the meadow’s
flowering surface —
goldenrod,
asters,
snakeroot —
a stem
among stems,
stalking just
the right
leaf. When
it reaches
a gap
in the canopy,
it stops
to sway —
a rhythmic
rocking. Then
one spined
twig reaches
for the nearest
likely toehold
& the rest
of it follows,
stretched like
the shadow
of a tree
in winter
across
the glaring
moment of
the sky.

About Dave Bonta

Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with one quadrillion of his closest microbial friends --- a tight-knit, symbiotic community comprising some 500 different species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa.
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6 Responses to Walking stick

  1. Rachel Barenblat says:
    September 24, 2008 at 8:38 pm

    I like this a lot, Dave. The sparseness suits it. And those last few terse lines! Wow.

  2. dale says:
    September 25, 2008 at 8:30 am

    I love it.

    stretched like
    the shadow
    of a tree
    in winter
    across
    the glaring
    moment of
    the sky.

  3. leslee says:
    September 25, 2008 at 8:59 am

    Yes, I like the end particularly. Very nice!

  4. ..deb says:
    September 25, 2008 at 10:30 am

    Wonderful poem about my favorite insect.

    “one spined/ twig reaches”

    The shape and pacing of the poem is so much like their measured movements. Well done. Makes me see a critter I haven’t in too long.

  5. Jarrett says:
    September 26, 2008 at 1:54 am

    Yes, wonderful ending. New Caledonia has provided some great stick-insect encounters.