Coxa.
Trochanter.
Femur.
Tibia.
Tarsus…

and four of the five named segments
of mantis foreleg flare spines to pierce and grip
whatever crawls, flies or falls too near.
The foreleg segments hang – at rest –

half-reminiscent of a monk at prayer,
awkward exoskeletal sacramentals, broad and thick;
they hang from what, for me, would be shoulders
and, scissor-jointed twice,

taper to what seem frail twigs dangling astray but,
to hummingbird, beetle or honeybee too near, the tarsi
prove stilettos swifter than eyes, single or compound,
commonly track, and their small spurs rasp or grip as needed.

For the thousands of bees I’ve seen all my years,
none surprised me as much as the one yesterday,
pollen packs bulging on its rear thighs,
zigging from blossom face to blossom face,

always just ahead of my zoom lens,
always too quick for focus on the pistils, then aloft and
WHAM! – jerked out of its beeline for the hive.
Gingerly steps against rose canes

brought honeybee back into viewfinder.
Below pink petal-edge, among composite leaf greens,
zoom found and focused on honey bee,
visegripped between cozae and femurs of a tan mantis,

the bee-legs feebly a-flail, stinger useless against the chitinous plates
trapping its abdomen. Given a few thorns against my thighs,
zoom caught a dozen series of still frames of mantis at lunch,
its prayers answered, till the memory card filled.

Time came to sort views of mantis:
mantis mandibles taking honeybee head-on to head off;
mantis staring at the lens, gauging what threat might
interrupt the meal; mantis gripping remains of the abdomen.

Delete took the failures of macro setting.
From disk, still, come recurrent questions.
Of all these sliced seconds zoom caught, which best tell
on screen, on page, the lines, the colors, the focus of
the mechanics of hunger?

photo by R.S. Carlson
 

( — Had Emily D had digital zoom –)

Hope is the thing with feathers
at flowers in soft sun –
that shares swift flares of fine-lined wings
till fast-series files are done –

and waits till after battery change
to pose for zoomed-in-large –
and stays in auto-focus range
till detail is assured –

and moves from blocking stems and leaves
for foregrounds crisp and clear –
and offers glints of beak and eyes
instead of murky blur –

and holds in best position
for lens to zoom a scene
to ideal composition
for at least one photo frame!

The late phone call brings the voice
from China, from Illinois,  from Intensive Care.

The snow has stumbled south from Seattle.
The airlines hold their passengers as collective breath

while sleet marches southeast to Los Angeles as rain
where county commissioners count storm drains

as items for next century’s budget, and news cameras
will turn tosporadic rivers in concrete beds

mounting current enough to sweep away
children impervious to warnings  against

the fascinations of waters
rushing garbage from the city into the  sea.

The news crews wait through clips of murders,
and hit-and-runs, holiday fires and asphyxiations.

The clouds twist south through the dark.
The phone sleeps.  The  patient seeps IV meds.

We remember the turns of the last conversation.
We will talk  again.  Friends can choose

to outwit the rains, to pray out symptoms.
Friends will speak despite death and thunders.

In the comfort of drumming waters
down the rooflines,

each will know
the other’s voice.

Wild Transitions Contents