Poetry Outdoors

Requiem for a Grasshopper

I took down a mug for my tea

from the high cupboards

of my kitchen

I went to pour

but there

at the base

was a grasshopper

the length of my finger nail

Still greenish

but dried out

long dead

Its body neat

legs tucked up

and out

like miniature triangles

all angles

but in perfect form

How did you get in there

Why did you hop

into my cup

When did you make

your final rest there

when there are seventy

potted plants

in my indoor garden

eight metres away

Little fellow

you could have

eaten your fill

of green leaves there

grown big enough

for me to hear

your pretty chirps

so I could release you

once I found you

into my outside garden

where the larger

hoppers hop

I've released so many

grasshoppers

before you

I've felt their strong legs

fighting to escape

my loosely closed hand

like frogs

or lizards

occasional butterflies

or the swallows

that nest in our eaves

that get a fright

as I open sliding doors

that lead to the patio

I free them all

I love to save

the living things

that lose their way

So why did you

spring into

my high cupboard

to make a tomb

in my teacup

when you could

have had

a life

that was

expansive

within the greenery

eating your way

to some great size

in the life

you were

hatched for

grasshopper