Today I realized life is such: that
each beetle that crawls up on my knee
is my sister, though not in the way
that some believe but in a truer sense.
As she comes and crawls, and I gently brush her
back, to keep from crushing her when I shift,
she comes again, determined to go where
she deems best. And she will live
and die, as she continues to crawl, to go,
to move. Resiliency, my sister the beetle.
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