Gold Bugs II
The search has continued,
and I have come to realize
the lack of significance
in so many things.
That valued token,
the small French bauble
must have reminded you of me.
It is now with me, where it can
now remind me of you
and of our searches.
I’ve placed it among my most
treasured items,
the most precious among them.
You weren’t warm,
and you didn’t smile.
They had forgotten to adorn you
with the shells from your backyard,
the discarded husks of aging insects.
I imagined them there in your hair,
sprayed gold and violet, resting
against the grey beautiful mass.
Written 1 March 2001 in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Brian Fuchs, “Gold Bugs II” from Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Scissortail Press, 2020)
Original Version:
Gold Bugs Pt II
The search has continued
and I have come to realize the
lack of significance in so
many things. That valued token,
the small French bauble that must
have reminded you of me —
it is now with me, as you have
more important matters at hand.
And I have found a perfect home
for it, among my own charms that
make me smile. What now? Shall I continue
the search? When I see you again,
will you be anticipating another;
and will it disappoint you if
I haven’t had the strength to go on?
You weren’t warm and you didn’t smile
on that final mortal day. They
had forgotten to adorn you with the shells
from your backyard’s fence. The discarded
cases of the aging insects.
I imagined them there in your hair
sprayed gold and violet against the
gray beautiful mass of hair, enhancing you
and I smiled, as I do when I see your golden cicada.
3.1.2001