Tag Archives: Grasshopper

“Grasshopper Karma” / a poem by Tom Evans

 Grasshopper Karma

I saw a grasshopper today for the first time

since I was a kid;

I was surprised as I hadn’t

ever given them another

thought in all that time;

I gave it its space, wary as I am

today of all insects.

We took them for granted back then,

seeing who could catch the most,

some bothered more than others by

the uncomfortable feeling their thrashing legs

and the bump their heads made in the palms of our hands,

though none would ever admit it.

Still jumping, trying to make their escape

as we cradled their taut bodies carefully

to finally put them in mason jars

(along with some grass, of course),

poking holes in the top of the jar lid

to let them breathe.

We watched them jump for a time

and joked about eating chocolate covered ones,

the coolness and smell of the grass,

the act of capturing them,

part of the woven fabric

of our summers.

I don’t remember if we left them to die

when we grew bored,

I’d like to think I didn’t but

I see so few today

I can’t help but think I did,

as I went on to become a man.

©Tom Evans, 2016