Autumn Dig (Poetry)

Such toil seemed oddly satisfying -
hands-on, primitive appeal,
grubbing through the moist brown peaty earth,
soil particles caked, gritty under nails,
edging fingertips with dark half-moons,
it felt as if I'd touched the garden's heart -

a warm sensation, intimate with scents
rising, spontaneously released
and mystical - a buried, vital beast
exhaling softly, camouflaged by sleep,

root-like claws and there, uncovered,
a scatter of jewels glowed
deep amber, sombre, polished smooth,
each inch-long capsule perfect
in its uniform design -
disposable sarcophagi

exhumed, bug eyes and mouthparts wrapped
in tinted see-through film; neat rows
of legs in strict formation; bio-juices caught
in temporary suspension -

impatient pharaohs of an insect dynasty,
they twitched inside their brittle skins,
dreaming, perhaps, of flying
as wings grew from the fluid, metamorphosis
timed to coincide with Spring -
the promised afterlife.