I overturned the rowboat planning soon
to row, looking as I turned it over
for water snakes or wasps in their paper
nests, but there was nothing there, it was true
so I reached out to get the oars and saw
appearing in a quiet growing swarm
hornets, a hundred or so out of the warm
earth from a small hole in alarm and awe
around where I had plunked the old boat down
waking them up to come out and inquire
Who’s shaking the ground? They seemed like a fire
I’d somehow ignited, jagged soft sounds
I’d stirred in the water, my hand through fronds
the murmuring grass, a breeze off the pond.
Drawings by Akram.