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Nature’s Hierarchy MAG
I did a cartwheel.
My hands made a slight dent in the grass,
And a few bugs were cemented onto my palms;
Their bodies mangled and deracinated from the ground,
The indented lines of my hands holding in place their remains.
Undisturbed, I shook their little thoraxes and abdomens
away from my superior body.
Nearby, an assemblage of flowers stood.
Seducing the bees with their untainted scent and ostentatious colors.
© Anonymous
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