After every inch he travels
my book scorpion stops and
waves to God
while he walks
in endless circles
on the rim of my cup
Like little antlers
his long pincers sway
back and forth
to the call of his
own private music
then he walks on
When I rescued him
from his endless journey
and placed him
on the spine of an old book
he disappeared
pincers first
down that tiny crack
like a duck hitting water
Copyright Leah Michal
