I live a small life, barely bigger than a speck,
barely more than a blip on the radar sweep
though it is not nothing, as the garter snake
climbs the rock rose shrub and the squirrel creeps
on bramble thorns. Not nothing to the crows
who heckle from the crowns of the last light’s trees
winterstripped of green, except for the boles
that ivy winds each hour round. See, the world is busy
and the world is quick, barely time for a spider
to suck the juice from a hawk moth’s head
so it can use the moth as a spindle that it wraps in fiber
while the moth constricts until it’s thin as a stick
you might think was nothing, a random bit
caught in a web coming loose from the window frame, in wind.
The author’s work can be found in the volume, Time Will Clean the Carcass Bones: Selected and New Poems.
Think about how the poem made you feel. Does your life ever feel inconsequential – like grains of sand in the wind? Or do you see extraordinary meaning in even the very small things – knowing your own personal butterfly effect indeed changes the world?
May you live out another beautiful poem in the collection of your life today, and we’ll see you again tomorrow.