Mantis
Episode 6
By Diane Solis
A large cream colored mantis
captured me today
by a wisp of my hair
near the nape of my neck.
I flitted it like a leaf
that fell from the aspen tree
beneath which I read,
not knowing the mystery
that found me. Unfazed
by my flitting, it regrouped
to catch me again
by the bridge of my glasses.
Clearly, this was no common bug.
Still, I had no idea, ‘till it landed
on the front of my shirt, resting
—a mystical pin to hold me
with its praying hands
and heart shaped head,
with its cream colored body
rocking, and its poise.
This poem first appeared in America Magazine in 2014, and is used with permission from the author, who retains the copyright. It will appear in her forthcoming chapbook, “Art Spirits,” from Finishing Line Press.