Something?

what thing?

crawling, trespassing —

            insect on my arm

disturbing

insignificantly

yet distracting still

from my golden time,

            my sun

me in my

black folding chair

chasing after a feeling —

serenity — as if God

            owed me some.

It crawled, stopped

inky black eyes

caught my eyes

as I examined it

            it examined me.

This strange bug was not a thug,

small, somewhat sporty,

black stripes, tan body,

delicate wings translucent,

            our eyes stayed locked,

it began to walk,

I nudged him ever so gently,

he stood his ground.

I didn’t like that, decided

            to blow him away.

My soft ‘whooooosh’…

blew his wings up

fluttering without lift

he stuck, stayed . . .

            stubborn.

My next wind more severe —

he weathered it

like a bent palm, or

            a strong craft at sea.

Suddenly, I felt godly

against his insolence —

who was he to wreck

my sought serenity?

Impatiently I pushed him

            rudely from my arm

turned back to

my day, my book, my sun —

saw him suspended

face in my face

blurred wings

            like hummingbird’s

his black speck eyes

looked large, right into mine

not angry

certainly defiant

            challenging.

Slightly shaken . . .taken . . .

wanting to capture him

turned for my camera

and he was gone.

And I thought I heard him laughing

and I smiled and nearly cried —

as I realized I was alone again

             the moment slowly died