The June bugs arrive early again.
Legs good for nothing but sticking
to thighs and fingers.
When I pluck russet bodies
from my own flesh,
I set hard casings on the porch
to stagger. Though some fly away.
But the weakest won't stand.
They fall on their backs
like heart-broken lovers.
About Darrelyn Saloom
Darrelyn Saloom co-wrote My Call to the Ring: A Memoir of a Girl who Yearns to Box (Glasnevin, 2012) with world champion boxer, Deirdre Gogarty, but her pugilistic passions are confined to a keyboard. Darrelyn lives with her husband and various critters on a horse farm in south Louisiana, where she is working on a collection of personal essays and stories. To learn more, visit her website at http://darrelynsaloom.net or follow her on Post.News. @DarrelynSaloom
Darrelyn Saloom 
June Bugs galore. They came to Vermont two days early this year. Must have not checked their calendar. They remind me of dates. Every time I see a date I think of June Bugs and vice versa.
Great last line.
Good morning, Jodi. June bugs and dates. Can’t say I’ve ever thought of a date when I looked at a June bug. Until now.
Hope the weather is warming in Vermont.
Thrilled you like the last line.
I love this, a lot. Girl, it is wonderful. 🙂 Crazy about where you went with the prompt. And grateful to Tweetspeak for “introducing” me to your poetry.
Thank you, Elizabeth. I usually write stories, mostly creative nonfiction, sometimes fiction. Lately, I’ve been writing short pieces, flash fiction, and then came a poem. My dear friend and mentor, Dave Malone, helped me figure out the structure. And now I’m hooked.
Thanks Darrelyn. Evokes memories of childhood in Kansas. We couldn’t open the front door without suffering a barrage from the little critters.
Hope you’re not in Kansas anymore, Stan. Weather news was frightning last night.
Though it’s always great to see you, and I’m glad you stopped by. I hope the memory my poem evoked is not a bad one. I shiver at the thought of a June bug barrage. 🙂
Nothing but a harmless thunderstorm here in south central Missouri last night. We were much more fortunate than many. And the memory was not a bad one at all. The June bugs were little more than a humorous nuisance. Now, if they’d been mosquitoes, or worse yet, hornets. . .
That would be worse, Stan. I have been bombared by swarms of mosquitoes. A lone one stalked me last night. Thought I’d never get to sleep.
Nice poem, Darrelyn. Makes me wish Arkansas June bugs were as kind and gentle and as good with the calendar as yours. They’ve been dive bombing us for weeks and slamming into walls and windows. Those poor things have no sense of direction or radar for upcoming obstacles, just like some dumb lovers I’ve known. After reading this I may look at them a bit different as I pretend they’re hockey pucks and sweep their stunned bodies off the patio.
Hilarious, Cyd. Love the visual of you sweeping “their stunned bodies off the porch.”
Oh I love the last two lines…
June bugs have not made it to Georgia yet. But whenever I think of them, I remember the day my youngest son was born. It was the first time I’d ever seen them and it was as if I had somehow stumbled into their world. Every year now, when they arrive, I remember that morning.
Thank you, Cynthia. I’m amazed you remember a June bug on such a big day. But then again, details are enhanced when we’re filled with strong emotions.
A perfect snapshot!
A perfect comment since I love to snap pictures. Thanks, Ro.
i love the heartbreak. wouldn’t the heart shatter slowly in pieces if we only had one month? where are the may or july bugs? ha! love the poetry and hope to read more.
Did you go home and leave this comment after our dinner last night? Because I have no idea what you mean. It was the wine, right? Love you both and had such a good time.
What a wonderful poem! I like the way the words “pluck russet bodies” sounds- I can still hear the sound of them hitting my window as a child : )
I remember that sound, too, LeAnne. We really do live in bugville, don’t we? : )
Lovely
Thanks, Carolyn. So glad you enjoyed.
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