By Alyssa Duckworth (Rated G)
There’s a wasp within the cloister
There’s a wasp that sits and spies
The clergy never notice it
The clergy never hide
I hear it buzzing softly
But the sound is magnified
By fears I never knew I had
Drawn out from down inside
The wasp is very small of course
But so, it seems, am I
And I’m smaller every second as the insect multiplies
LogoSophia Magazine 