Fear and Molting
I noticed
It crawled at night
And dangled from a dying branch
Exoskeleton shed, or shedding
Tiny marble eyes black and dimming
Peeling, unable to blink
Once a deep and earthy brown
Becoming ashen, discarded dust
I looked again
And it had evolved with the day
Only an alien carcass remained
Its hollow hanging ghost
A reminder of what it once was
Now birthed and green and winged
Stretched and strength gathered
Time to tick and sing and scream, to mate
To produce, to fall, to burrow, to wait
— April Resnick
Brood II by Pen Brady
sometimesihatemycat 