This short poem has been stuck in the back of my brain for a couple of years now, waiting for the right image to come along. This morning, as I sat at this keyboard, this little guy landed on my forearm. I brushed him away, to the desk, where I grabbed this quick shot...
This short poem has been stuck in the back of my brain for a couple of years now, waiting for the right image to come along. This morning, as I sat at this keyboard, this little guy landed on my forearm. I brushed him away, to the desk, where I grabbed this quick shot...
ReplyDelete...then dispatched him...
...holy though he was.
Die in a fire, mosquitoes.
ReplyDeleteHarsh, Alex. But legit.
ReplyDeleteThe irritation, goes by unnoticed at first. Then you feel the tick.
ReplyDeletePretty kuol, John. :-)
ReplyDeleteWendell Berry
ReplyDeletebites
back!
He does indeed, Walt. One of my very favorites.
ReplyDeleteI'd rather just pinch my skin and let them fill themselves until they burst .
ReplyDeleteThat'll teach them, Daniel. I think...
ReplyDelete