The sting in the tale
Inherently social, like rooks
Commonly a canopy of
Dull damoflauge green
No ‘here i am flower’
No wafting evening scent
No love lost
Beneath its jagged leaf
Delicate white hair
Adorns the underside
By which it gives us
Something to remember
Long after the brush:
That fizz of pain
on unprotected skin
Annoying, irritating
Tempting our desire to
Scratch, prolonging
All the more
The last laugh
Mendham 2010
Kalikellett 