Visiting the Carriage House
In an old carriage house
converted to a cozy apartment for one
the bugs remember and return.
infestations reign and wane—
short lived like flirtation.
each new invasion waiting at the door:
roly-polies what she calls pill bugs
slugs moths wasps and stinkbugs
roaches or water bugs and snails.
backs brushed with broom straws—
roly-poly infantrymen
roll into grey ball bearings
she sweeps back
across the welcome mat.
some she captures for release—
bumbling bees in the sitting room
beckoned with a nod and whistle
and directed to the door
fireflies in the kitchen
cupped in champagne flutes
and freed into the night.
spiders brown and reclusive
—holed up in corners—
keep corpses and egg sacs
wrapped tight like secrets.