The Wasp Jar

They lay there

as though sleeping

waiting for their moment

to rise

slide from their delicate

woven womb

born within the glass

with a somnolent ethereal groan

to take wing against

three pane day

beating beats

and buzzing a nasty buzz

furious struggle to rise

into the finite air,

contained within the silicate

contained within the anger

of a spurned sun

thin wisps of breath

beating slowed beats

and buzzing resigned buzz;

furious born, furious rise, furious struggle

furious fall

against the glass

lay there

as though sleeping

waiting for their moment

to rise.

Reviews

[Lydia]

I really like the feeling this evoked...reminded me of those dog days of summer where you can almost hear the heat. Great imagery. Nice one, JR

[JR]

Thanks! True story... lol