The water in the hot tub has just been changed
My hands look the same underwater as above
The reflection of the ripples on the side of the house
Resemble a caravan, never quite completing the trip

In the corner under the rain gutter
Three wasps are hovering with familial intent
One has even begun the chore of fashioning
That scariest of all insect structures

Only three cells are completed thus far
But more are being contemplated
I can tell by their flight stimulations
And three is already three too many

I will have to turn the jets off and get up
Just when my aching back was beginning to loosen
I will have to dry off, get a fly swatter . . .
But, wait -- the builder has decided to visit me

She flies around my head a couple of times
While her flunkies wait over in the corner
It's obvious she has to do all the work around here
Making sure now that I'm not really watching

I pick up the little fish net we use to skim debris
And casually trap her like a violent butterfly
I force the net to the bottom of the hot tub
With her inside in a green mesh cell

There she remains for a small eternity
Static, as if completely frozen in ice
In water that is a full six degrees
Warmer than my body temperature

Her backup crew has long since left
Without direction they are hopeless
Being sure she's done, I tap her to the deck
She lies on her back like old wilted lettuce

I turn on the shoulder jets and try to forget
But the image of her underwater, frozen
Makes me keep checking to see
And sure enough within a few minutes

A couple of legs start to wriggle
I turn off the jets and get out of the tub
I put on my Earth sandals and quash the resurrection
A thousand hippies in Seattle shiver simultaneously

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.