The Sting

The Sting

I don't know how you got here
But somehow you've got in
A wasp that struck in pitchest night
A barb so long and thin
A splinter from the driftwood
I'd clutched to stay afloat
A maelstrom I'd no sense of
Till driftwood became boat
and saw the storm around me
How long had it raged?
You came down Black and yellow,
on membrane wings, assuaged
I'd had no time for angels
Hallowed halos! Feathered wings!
Harps and clouds and rainbows,
Ired, irksome things
I'd had no need for saving
… or at least that was my will
Yet on trying to remove your sting
I drove it deeper still
I don't know how it got there
Whilst somehow lost at sea
A life time spent on insect wings?
… it's good enough for me!