Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO A WASP, by MARY BRODINE



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TO A WASP, by            
First Line: His body bears its purpose plain
Last Line: When that projectile wing is still.
Subject(s): Wasps; Yellow Jackets


His body bears its purpose plain
As if the centuries designed
That shape to fit as cunningly
As destiny upon the mind.
The little skull's a polished plate
Of seamless armor deftly set
Above implicit impulse to defy;
And here's perfection strangely met
In repetition of each eye.
Yet written for a deeper sight,
The paired antennae's curving arc
Describes a figure on the air
Like revelation's cryptic mark.
He weighs his life in counterpoise;
So shaped by motive every part,
Its true proportion just fulfills
Those secret measures of the heart.
How should he guess at consequence
Past any need involved?
His realm of magnitude is will;
Finality for him is solved
When that projectile wing is still.





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