Juanita of Kansas
Road-tripping from goofy California
we are a mom, pop, 3 kids
come calling on Aunt Juanita
in calm Kansas this Sunday
surrounded by rustling rows of corn.
At a picnic table we eat barbecued
buffalo steak from Juanita’s small herd,
Juanita’s bloody butchering.
Tastes like spicy beef.
Joining us is one marvelous insect.
Gently it hovers, sets down on the table
like a puff of dandelion, size of a baseball
made of air and beams of light
with delicate spindly legs and
lichen-like scales of no apparent use
except beauty. Kids and I bend close
over the tabletop examining, exclaiming
“Oh wow,” wondering what in the world
as if God’s jewelry had dropped
from heaven until Juanita says
“I don’t know what it is but—”
WHAP goes her big hand
and crushes the bug with her napkin.
“It’s my farm,” Juanita says,
and that’s that.
……
First published in Sheila-Na-Gig. Thank you editor Hayley Haugen.
Photo by me.
Note: I still don’t know what that insect was. Can’t find an image on the internet.
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