Wasps

By Alana Duchemin

I see wisps of clouds
sweep past my eyes
reminding me of white sheep
as sea and sky come together
in harmony as seagulls are reeling
a sigh emerges from my lips
for this event can’t last
I already felt it’s loose
keenly

I press my feet down
in the clean sand
feeling the salty sea kiss
my feet
I would like every event
to be like this

I hear then a low level buzzing
in my eardrums
then I feel a stinging
on my left elbow
I find myself muttering
Wasps
I feel like swatting it
or spraying it with bug spray

Wasps I can’t stand them
Wasps there’s nothing pretty
about them

I search for a core
of inner calmness and stillness
but it has departed
like the clouds
that reminded me of peaceful sheep
I felt my fear within me
Its like a fever

I wish my fears would depart
but they remain with me
I try calming my ticker
Whilst I lick sea balm
from my salty lips

Listen to reason I say
be rational
It was small, it was fragile
I’m bigger then it
but the fear that grips
my ticker is an irrational one