I Had Pretty Plumage Once
       

The bees alighting on clover so near my toes
have no interest in what I have to offer.
Fat wolf spiders on my porch jump at flies
and leave my arms, my legs, unmolested.
Unnamed snakes that could be copperheads,
but probably aren't, have no business here,
their forked tongues and fist-shaped faces aimed
at other prey. Deer ticks, clinging to thousands
of tall blades, prefer to jump their perches
for some piece of puppy ass, waving at the sky
in happy oblivion. And even the darkening sky,
with its strong, broad shoulders,
seems interested in other things.

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Copyright © 2017 Leona Sevick All rights reserved
from Lion Brothers
Press 53
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission