reflective

The beautiful strange enormous cricket-thing
     that came in when your windows were open
     that got in your hair
     that you put out
     into the violent February weather
     thinking that its proper domain
     thinking yourself not able to provide for it
     that came in again
     that you put out again
The beautiful strange enormous cricket-thing
     with the dull brown surface
     with the folded wings
     with the antennae
     with the many-faceted eyes
     with the incessant moving and searching
     with the glorious reflective red inside its big jumping-legs
The beautiful strange enormous cricket-thing
     has expired on your back-door threshold
     its guts carried off by the amoral ants
     its body now an empty bottle
     its glorious legs cut away,
     discarded.

What do you think?