Saturday, April 18, 2015

Crawling on a page of my book,

By X. Z. Shao

Crawling on a page of my book,
an insect was so tiny,

tinier than a pinpoint
or a needle hole,
I couldn’t make out
its eyes, ears, nose or mouth.
Its moving body must have been
supported by its busy running legs.
Why it existed and came here,
I wasn’t sure.
I guessed it would die soon in hours.
Sometimes, I had patience
to let one go.
Sometimes not,
I dusted the page with my hand
and a trace of a thin yellow line
of its crashed body
dashed on the page.
I wondered some Force
must have been observing me
reading in Its wood
and being puzzled in the same way
as I had been puzzled by the insect.


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