We listen to classical music
the bug and I
sharing this space, cold, light,
concerto sound.
Holding fast to a clamp’s screw
a Bodhi sacred ground
hours in serene stillness
undeterred by close breathing
resting quietly.
Waiting
Still
Awake
Alive as I
Portland, Oregon – Vernal Equinox, March 20, 2016
In Cascadia 
I’ve always held respect for the brown marmorated stinkbug. They survive everything. Nice poem. x
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Thanks for giving me the name. I was too lazy to try to look it up. And, I’m glad you liked it. BTW – two hours later, after a long walk, he (she?) is still there.
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