Poem – Scorpion (By David Russell)

Scorpion

I touched a scorpion; it struck.

It was my fault; I had been warned –

But for one split second

Its beauty-fascination wrenched me

From reason’s ice.

 

I don’t think anyone could find a scorpion ugly,

They shine too.

 

Writhing and smarting from the sting

I lashed out, struck on something soft

I could not see.

 

Again pure venom’s shudder,

Then eagles, condors

Circled, launched and swooped.

 

Did they fly in my slipstream, I in theirs?

Through what was what transcended?

 

Who had been the real scorpion?

 

[su_david_russell_speculum]