Much of me’s a home for bugs,
The kind that I can’t see.
They’re in, about and all around.
They’re happy in the home they’ve found:
Their home sweet home is me.
Linked to K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge with the theme “creepy crawlies”. The reference in the poem is to the “holobiome” mentioned by Steven Gundry in “The Plant Paradox”.
The chapel at the college Thomas and I attended had a storage room in its attic. Thomas and I went there one afternoon. We weren’t supposed to, but that made it all the more intriguing. There was enough light coming through a dirty window to see desks, equipment and oddly beds piled haphazardly around the walls. This dusty place made Thomas think of a tale of demon possession. He told stories well with facial expressions that kept my attention. The last sentence of his story, spoken while he looked suspiciously at me, was, “The devil could possess anyone.”
I say that was the last sentence, because at that point in the story, assuming there was more, a beetle, big and ugly, started bouncing up and down on the ceiling high above us. We thought the bug had gone bonkers. Besides, the bouncing was loud enough to stop Thomas from continuing his story with further hints of my being possessed by something or other. We looked up at the bug. Thomas looked at me. He had an idea. While the bug bounced up and down, up and down, Thomas cautiously crossed his two index fingers and raised his arms to target the noisy bug through them. The moment his eyes, the finger cross and that bug lined up so he could get a good shot—right at that moment—the bug soundlessly dropped to the floor.
RUNNING FROM THAT ROOM’S
SPOOKY SPRINGTIME BOUNCING BUG
BEETLE’S TURN TO SMILE
Text: Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday. Lillian is hosting. Haibun should have two paragraphs of prose about something that really happened. I can’t forget that bug. There should be a “kigo” on the second line of the haiku representing the season. Mine is “springtime”. The haiku should break in two parts at a “kiregi”. I think mine breaks between springtime and bouncing when attention shifts from us rushing out of that room to the smiling bug. By way of disclosure, neither of us went back to see if the bug was actually smiling. That’s just what I would do were I that bug and I assume only the prose part has to be factual.
Photos: “Upstairs Toward the Blue”, above, and “Climbing”, below.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 