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Talking to a Grasshopper
Disinclined to answer me back
I am staring at you, grasshopper,
wondering what I must look like
to you. . .
A menacing thing, perhaps?
Or of no more interest
than a passing cloud?
I am not like you,
a coiled spring
ready to launch.
Nor have I your awareness
of every gradation
of light and dark.
Lacking your energy
envying your freedom
from far distant worries
your lack of any plan,
unencumbered with regrets
unimpaled by depression.
Grasshopper, I wonder?
Is your short-lived, elegant
single-minded life
more or less impressive
than any other life, large or small,
gravity-bound as we two are, on this earth?
This brief poem was prompted by an “encounter” between me and a very sizable grasshopper perched on the side of my garage. Like praying mantises, grasshoppers are insects with…
