ancestral masks

the eyes go back
to being shadows

unsettled sky—

studying the markings
of bark beetle larvae

probing the beebalm’s red forked tongues

the acrid odor / of a stinkbug’s fear / kitchen spider

haiku: “big fake stare / the caterpillar is tired / of being a caterpillar”

now the leaves get more of the sky than just sunlight

I take a break from organizing my files

gnats follow the branching cracks in its skin

blunders across a pair of painted tulips

its enormous antennae attract a harvestman

the click beetle’s antennae sweep back and forth

won’t your tongue get stuck to that icy snow?