POETRY

Your Song

Photo by Al d’Vilas via Pexels

for Tracy Pellett, 24th President of Glenville State College

I’ve been having the wasp dream again.
First one, then several
reddish-brown pests
hover around my torso, land on my shirt.

No problem.
If I just stand still,
They’ll leave me alone,
lose interest,
float away.

More come.
Panic sets in.
I remain still,
but some of the wasps
crawl under my shirt.

Their legs pinch;
their hard bodies press against my skin.
The stinging begins.
I wake up in a panic.

You can tell everybody this is your song.