Photo Challenge# 78 and Wordle #216

The Wasp Hunter

Rebeca Cygnus

A drizzle of pollen

Sprouts from the panes.

The heart is, itself, inscrutable

A silhouette of various tenants

Chewed to pulp and redeemed as fodder.

She sells seances by the seashore

An envelope ripe with indigestibles.

Draw all the lines you like

But no one escapes the need for grief.

She traces wasps in the condensation.

A hunter, worth a moment of scrutiny.

She is conjugating in response

To a primitive truth.

Is this how we are to live

In the spirit’s wake?

Is this how we are to live

In the place, in the face

Of all these gathering births?

Is this how we are to live

Too far down to get ahead?

216

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13 responses to “Photo Challenge# 78 and Wordle #216

  1. Oh that second stanza is solid. Love the play on the “she sells sea shells…” rhyme. I wonder if she can see anything good, of it is all indigestible. Grief finds us all, some harder than others. We can not protect or insulate ourselves from it.

    Great question in the end as well.

  2. Oh I want to see her and see what she conjugates in all my lines in my weary old hand 😉 Great poem..love the imagery and metaphors…you write beautifully, Yves!

  3. Captivating second stanza and the summation of the last line.
    I knew some folks who attempted to play at telling fortunes.
    There may be a few who know secreted truths. But I’d say that was few.

    Chilling to the bone. Brrr…

    • There are plenty of charlatans out there but I definitely believe there are things we cannot explain. I have occasionally had dreams that have come true, not always good but I would not consider myself psychic

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