INCIDENT

And thinking of blue winter,
a man with snow on his ears,
scowl deep and frozen,
never the last of all.

And kicking a flower's head
wherever the Mantis weeps:
says what's the good of it all?
Not the last that weeps in vain
the Mantis stabs its life
into the earth.

Or punishing delinquent frogs;
a writhing jar that cannot swim,
blank eyes, indomitably wide;
scarcely the last to sob.

And muddy ripples see no glass;
the jar drowns and the Mantis
melts beneath the sun.
Only the last to stare up,
back into maddened eyes.

--Con Pederson

Page scans provided by Judy Bemis

Updated May 17, 2003. If you have a comment about these web pages please send a note to the Fanac Webmaster. Thank you.