Cathy Christa Connolly
Loves caterpillars most
She can take or leave a slimy snail
Convinced they’re just too gross
She’s not concerned with beetles
Nor noisy flying bugs
When confronted by a centipede
Cathy Christa merely shrugs
She camps out in the garden
In an old cuffed pair of jeans
With cousin Courtney’s looking glass
She crawls on hands and knees
She searches under turnips
Under beets and celery
She’ll leave no fragile leaf unturned
‘Neath the carrot’s canopy
She’ll get down in the clover
Where the creepy crawlers crawl
But she’s never met a crawling thing
That gave her creeps at all
She probes the blocks of cinder
By the creek around the bend
Where spiders like to build their webs
To dine on all her friends
They hide in cracks and hollows
Seeking crunchy insect snacks
Traps of sturdy silk they spin
For crickets they must catch
Please hurry home for dinner
Her mother loudly called
Your father’s coming up the drive
Let creepy crawlers crawl
I’m giving you this warning
Don’t pretend that you don’t hear
If any bugs come through that door
You won’t sit down for a year
-© 2015 Kenneth Goorabian
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