These Hungry Pests

Beaver Meadow Audubon Center in Warsaw, NY

I yearn

For a cabin in the woods

And a life more connected

To nature

But would I not

Absolutely lose my mind

At being a constant feast

For flies and mosquitoes?

As a warden of the wild,

Am I willing to accept

A halo of furious flies

Who poke and prod at me

Incessantly

For eternity?

Am I eager to nurse contaminated ticks

And watch them wistfully

Motherly

As they suckle my supple skin so much

That they become swollen with my scarlet juices

Their faces festooned across my flesh?

Will I welcome a swirling swarm of mosquitoes

And all of their piercing proboscises

With open arms?

Can I look to the blurred sky above in bliss

Tears streaming down my face

Enraptured in the love I should hold

For these hungry pests?

The wild is so alluring

From the comforts of our cozy castles

How much blood have I offered today

To keep the web of life alive for another day?

Hearing the notes of a robin in heat

Watching the breeze rustle delicate leaves

Is all easy

Recognizing that we’re all family

Is harder in practice

Than in theory