Life on Earth

For Wendy

Eyes fastened to a lightning bug

dipping down, I saw this slug

sitting on a gray flagstone.

He looked depressed. He sat alone,

pointing antennae at the sky

like an astronomer. I

forgot my bug, distracted by

those turning aerials. One rose

slightly higher from his head

and stiffened strangely when I said,

“I wonder what you’re listening for?

God walking in the garden or

a killer asteroid? A mate?

A Frenchman carrying a plate?”

Always curious to see

how others look at you and me,

I quickly rattled off my list

of possibilities. But his

response was slow. I still can hear

that dreadful silence. Loud and clear.