a wasp upon a flowered branch,
around and round she flew —
her carapace electric black,
her wings electric blue.
of nectar-drops inebriate, she
swerved from bloom to bloom;
i tarried from my errand, but
she wouldn't, i assumed,
but for a while. so i went on
and she went on her way;
the busywork of insectkind
their flutterings belie.
26 June 2020 — When I went out to buy a bouillon cube from our neighbour, I saw a beautiful blue-winged wasp in our white angel flowers. So I wrote a little thing for her, in imitation of my good friend Emily Dickinson.
I love how she uses these serious Latinate words for simple natural things, the badinage birds and the emolument of the sky; her work has been and continued to be an unexpected wellspring in my journey to enrich my vocabulary. I used some of my new words here. Maybe you can learn some new words with me too.
