I watch the war through window–
impenetrable glass to exo-hearted,
constructed when the insects started.
Don’t know how the combat ends, though.
I’ve become methodic and catatonic
watching the flies, little black spies,
murmuring over their latest prizes,
stolen passwords by enemies moronic.
Bees keep watch, pausing past pane,
sentinels of the Nectar Brigade,
as red ants scale my window shade,
guardians of the Wholesome Grain.
They fight for food and passions dear,
the crickets charge the butterflies,
the flying wasps hold sabres high,
scream, “Sting or die” to preserve.
My backyard is their front line,
so I never one antenna favor,
dragonfly or beetle anger,
for fear their forces will combine
and insurrect my double blinds.
NaPoWrMo Day 29. Today’s task on napowrimo.net was to write “in the window.” Imagine a window looking into a place or onto a particular scene. I’ve taken my own spin on this by crafting some speculative verse. I hope you enjoy.
Artwork “Insects At War” by ITI Ion Vincent Danu
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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