Wooly Bear Caterpillar


Never forget Ethel
Although I don’t command
Of course you are in charge
Just a suggestion then


by Ethel Mortenson Davis

I’ve come to lie
my head again in your lap
this Wooly Bear morning:
Frost in the air,
the sky unbelievably blue,
the leaves red-orange.

I reach down and touch
The softness of the caterpillar’s
black and brown bands.
She quickly springs into a ball—
so strong, so resilient:

Strong enough to survive
90 below zero in arctic winters,
spinning a cocoon
and then in spring
turning into a Golden Isabella moth.

This strength is something
to take home with us
and rid our toxic relationships,
disregarding them like clothing
we let drop around our ankles
and step away from
with a new nakedness,

ready to start building
new cocoons that turn us
into golden moths.

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About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on October 14, 2017, in Senryu. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. poetic remembering 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I always love Ethel’s poems! Glad you reblogged this.

    Liked by 1 person

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