KA Rees #48 - Bug Plinks at Varuna

Bug Plinks at Varuna

Hat tip to Gerard Manley Hopkins

The leaves on veined branches long sweeping shuttles of light

A gust flusters the canopy with gestures of flight—white cockatoos

charge and tumble combs a mess, light, shade, and pattern dance

across grain of the desk. Bugs plink the windows, a massive correction

of velocity. They slingshot to green intensity, leaves rustling

the canopy. Outside, a woman quietly uses her mobile phone, crown

bowed. So much the attitude of prayer. This light and the other—

half-blind; of being and not being. Neither here, nor there. Electronic
communication / electronic communion. I’m surprised
there’s not more bug juice over everything.