by Tamara Madison
How I envy
the furry black
yellow striped
caterpillar
that climbs
the lush stems
of the basil plants.
Sheltered within the deep
green redolent canopy
it spends its days
feasting
of the fragrant leaves,
unaware
that with each
delicious bite
it destroys
its gorgeous habitat.
By the time the leaves
are all reduced
to lacy stubble
it will be time
to find a resting place,
pull a shroud over itself
and wait for the dawn
of the next life.
How I envy
the furry black
yellow striped
caterpillar
that can destroy
its world
and retreat
to the succor
of a regenerative
cocoon.
Tamara Madison teaches English and French in one of those "failing schools" in Los Angeles. She has published poetry and short fiction in various literary journals in the U.S. and U.K. She is the winner of the 2005 Jane Buel Bradley Poetry Chapbook award for her chapbook "The Belly Remembers," which was published by Pearl Editions.
