Riot at the Mint Patch

Riot at the Mint Patch

 

They are having a riot at the mint patch

And they don’t seem to care

If I stumble around the periphery of the party

With my dog

My half eaten bag of pretzels

Or my half a bottle of beer.

The hornets

The wasps

The bees

And the butterflies

All coexist

In the fragrant mist of the mint.

I am only a passing shadow

I am not the answer to any of their needs

I am not the start, the middle or the end

Of their riddle

I am not even a hint.

I am not the nicanoid killer

I am not a spray can of poison

I am not a link in the chain.

The wasps and hornets and the butterflies

Are gathering juices and pollen

Before the coming rain.

The riot at the mint patch

Will go on without me.

I am beginning feel quite vestigal

Like the tissue

At the end of the bowel

Like a molar

Like a useless limb

That’s how I feel right now.

Like the acknowledgment

At the end of a book

Or an after dinner mint

Or a puzzle that has already been solved

There is no need of a hint.