Poetry Map of Scotland: poem no. 304

Peace Garden

You sole
obstinate wasp
can you understand it
was your persistence wore me down,

me to
sacrifice my
sandwiched sustenance.
Your willing spiralling descent

fat salami
stirs in me disgust but
also guilt in tempting you, for
are not

you a
Samye Ling wasp?
Perhaps once Buddhist or
yet to take such refuge but now

holy stupa,
high flags cracking as I
turn, confused in this garden
of peace.

Mary Wight

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