Worlds within worlds



a blade of grass

pushing through the vetch

a black beetle


a flower yellow or pink

a bee

this world hums and quivers

birds hover.

Or is it this

vociferating in indignation

asphalted and polymer-poisoned

screaming with fear

and inescapable death

that is grinning

at the other side

of the hedge?


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

19 thoughts on “Worlds within worlds”

  1. I really liked the imagery. It’s as if I shrunk to insect size to see the greatness of this microcosm too small for us humans. Maybe there’s an Ant Man joke in there somewhere, I don’t know…

      1. Sure thing, Jane. That’s one way to put it with your poem. I’ve had some feelings about finding some perfect place, but never in that way to shrink down to one tiny place. It’s certainly creative.

  2. This makes me think of the Talking Heads song, “Nothing but Flowers”–
    “This used to be real estate, now it’s only fields and trees
    Where? Where is the town?
    Now, it’s nothing but flowers”
    That’s something to imagine! (KK

      1. It doesn’t. I always thought they should have left the ruins of the World Trade Center alone. Nature could build a better memorial than any human.

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