out of the depths

from out of the depths came crawling
my caterpillar self
sounds awful,
I know
an unattractive something
no one likes to look at
but children like to catch.
I climbed out of the soil
like a seventeen year cicada
whose bell had finally rung
the servants in the kitchen
watching the wall of strings
jangling summons:
come up.

September 24, 2008