by Charles Entrekin
Safe in our Sierra Nevada,
cool mountain breeze, listening to the
hot tub bubbling around us, we lie back
pink in the last of the daylight,
watch a pale green Praying Mantis
strike a Tai-Chi pose, become a twig
an uninvolved stick,
a part of a leaf on the deck,
and then as I’m about to speak
it happens:
the Mantis, nature’s ninja,
blurs like a film in fast forward,
snags a black bumblebee from flight,
drags it to a sudden stop.
But then the counter movement of life
swirls before the death bite,
and I watch the cellophane wings
pull free.
And as the black bee takes the air,
something inside me sees,
a second chance,
the life I have not yet lived.
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