Miss June

Go slowly to see the little things.
The junebug sees them.
Perched upon a sun-drenched
Blackberry, fat and wet
With morning dew.

Her shiny green armor
Glows as I stare, intently.
Suddenly, she lumbers
Into the blue sky we

green-june-beetle     A loud, dull buzz
As she dips precipitously,
Almost unable to pull
Payload of armored
Jacket upward.

Her body bangs my
Chest, bouncing
Back into the blue.
I laugh as she buzzes

Why, Miss June Bug
Of July? Why do you
Buzz your green
Self away from

You have seen things.
Coachwhip climbing,
Ghost ants on forage,
Old owl swooping low.
I know nothing.

Slowly she slants
Off for the fronds
Of a large fern.

She would stay
And chat were it
Not improper. This
I’m certain. June bugs
have their scruples.

Everyone knows.


About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Miss June

  1. philessatry says:

    “Coachwhip climbing,
    Ghost ants on forage,
    Old owl swooping low”

    Love these lines. Evocative and well placed. Thank you for sharing this piece. It felt hopeful to me…and it showed an attention to detail. I admire both. Earned a follow.

  2. Pingback: Summer Daze | From guestwriters

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