Zoom_3

photo by R.S. Carlson

Coxa.
Trochanter.
Femur.
Tibia.
Tarsus…

and four of the five named segments
of mantis foreleg flare spines to pierce and grip
whatever crawls, flies or falls too near.
The foreleg segments hang – at rest –

half-reminiscent of a monk at prayer,
awkward exoskeletal sacramentals, broad and thick;
they hang from what, for me, would be shoulders
and, scissor-jointed twice,

taper to what seem frail twigs dangling astray but,
to hummingbird, beetle or honeybee too near, the tarsi
prove stilettos swifter than eyes, single or compound,
commonly track, and their small spurs rasp or grip as needed.

For the thousands of bees I’ve seen all my years,
none surprised me as much as the one yesterday,
pollen packs bulging on its rear thighs,
zigging from blossom face to blossom face,

always just ahead of my zoom lens,
always too quick for focus on the pistils, then aloft and
WHAM! – jerked out of its beeline for the hive.
Gingerly steps against rose canes

brought honeybee back into viewfinder.
Below pink petal-edge, among composite leaf greens,
zoom found and focused on honey bee,
visegripped between cozae and femurs of a tan mantis,

the bee-legs feebly a-flail, stinger useless against the chitinous plates
trapping its abdomen. Given a few thorns against my thighs,
zoom caught a dozen series of still frames of mantis at lunch,
its prayers answered, till the memory card filled.

Time came to sort views of mantis:
mantis mandibles taking honeybee head-on to head off;
mantis staring at the lens, gauging what threat might
interrupt the meal; mantis gripping remains of the abdomen.

Delete took the failures of macro setting.
From disk, still, come recurrent questions.
Of all these sliced seconds zoom caught, which best tell
on screen, on page, the lines, the colors, the focus of
the mechanics of hunger?