Bald-faced hornet

By Scot Martin

---

Fear is an over-
reaction; the right
response, perhaps, is respect.

The small, wingéd demon
only eight inches from where
I sit.
Oblivious to me, 
Dolichovespula maculata 
(not the name Adam bestowed)
placidly gnaws on 
the dead, barkless
cottonwood.

Dare I smash this vespid? 
Possessing a spectral face--
white patches on its head and
thorax, glossy, solid
black eyes—(almost a death’s head
in miniature)

spawner of sweaty
terror and feverish
dreams of “revenge and doubt.”

Why the desire within
to destroy the hornet?

Equally troubling,
bubbling in myself, a phrase:

“For if, when we were
enemies, we were
reconciled to God…”

I inhale as it flies
away with mandibles
full of wood pulp.

---

Scot F. Martin lives with his family and teaches high school English in the Rouge River watershed in southeast Michigan. He has been published in Jesus the Imagination, Front Porch Republic, Stand, Ignatian Solidarity Network, Flourish and other analog and digital publications.

Scot's previous work on Foreshadow:
untitled (Poetry, October 2023)