Michael A. de Armas

The debate over right & wrong
on the hind legs of the crickets,
cicadas contracting tymbals
beneath the red clover, the dull
thrum of my tailbone on the slats
of the splat-backed rocking chair,
a bumble bee’s hum & hover,
the sudden crunch of plump & pile
vibrating under the rockers,
the not-yet-dead bee’s not-yet-stifled-
sound, and my daughters’ own buzz
pauses among the red clover. Frantic,
the banded blob quivers, beseeches.

I lean back, rock over him again to quiet
& single-mindedness I & my rocking chair confuse with love.