100 Word Poem

100 Word Poem

A  brown husk, an old cocoon

adheres to my wall, a gaping hole,

an open mouth marking the spot

where something segmented,

with wings thinner than sparrow’s breath,

with scrambling legs, and unfurling antennae,

emerged knowing all that it would ever know.

Consider the caterpillar who wove this shroud.

Did it understand the impending death of

its present self?  Did it understand the voracious

feeding on plants, the devouring of the leaves offered

to him, communion wafers, life,

nothing symbolic here, being consumed,

destroyed, and transformed to fuel

a future transformation?

 Life consumes life; death is a pause between bites.