what’ll you have: roly poly and osage orange?
ant and cottonwood? beetle and oak?
be both the stump and the bug,
the earth and the light
be the world you’ve hidden under,
be the separate vulnerable ones
be the truth you’ve claimed as solid,
be the creature busy to stay under it
choose your bug, your insect:
the kind that like to live in dark places
choose your wood, your fallen tree:
at least a foot in diameter,
cut to an eighteen inch high hunk
be the keeper of both.
be hidden long enough
to have set up camp,
tunneled and deposited eggs:
stake claim on the future
be strong enough
to move the stump,
pulling dirt and stringy roots with it,
light finding the hidden place
be brave enough
to survive as a bug scattering:
roly poly with legs tucked under,
ants more upright, beetles scurrying sideways
be the scent of the natural order of things,
the leaf tucked under the stump:
half dirt, half waiting
be the silent panic,
the soundless frantic circling of being exposed
be the natural consequence
of lifting the heaviness of a crumbling truth
be the keeper of the stump:
notice how easily it split when moved, open and decayed.
be the keeper of the bugs:
notice their world destroyed with no where to hide.
whisper i’m sorry and you’re welcome in a magical at-the-same-time way
the future continues, probable ones splayed out
in the facts of cracked stumps and homeless bugs