Ground Beetle

This entry is part 36 of 37 in the series Bridge to Nowhere: poems at mid-life

 

One day when I was 14
I found a ground
beetle under my bed—
glossy black,
fast & furtive.
I grabbed a thick book
& beat it to death.

I liked beetles but
this one frightened me.
It belonged under rocks
in the forest, not two feet
below my pillow,
burrowing through the carpet
while I slept.

My voice was changing.
The beetle disposed of,
life went on as before
but in a lower key.

Series Navigation← ConnectionÉtude for the World’s Smallest Violin →

One Reply to “Ground Beetle”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.