-by Linzi Garcia

Spider, your house got caught

in my hair. I’m sorry 

I stole your dinner.

I’m sorry you’ll have to start from scratch.

The drunk dragonfly

flew right into my shoulder,

but I’m the one who said,

“Pardon me.”

Bee on my page 

trying to pollinate the flowers 

I’ve just written about.

Don’t you know better than that?

Don’t you see the rose over there?

I found the grasshoppers’ playground!

I am ready to play!

Moth, I thought you were a leaf.

Thank you for flying away

before I stepped on you—

an autumn crunch I didn’t want to make.

Daddy long-leg, so graceful and light.

I bet you’re a real good dancer.

In the pile of fallen leaves,

you suck on summer’s carcasses.

Young racoon under the bridge,

you look embarrassed that I found you

so easily, like I joined a game

of hide and seek I wasn’t invited to.

The trail turns into road,

and the road turns into more road,

and more road turns into hunting grounds,

and hunting grounds turn into the rest of the world.

To stay in touch visit meadowlarkbookstore.com or follow me on Instagram: @linzi_garcia