elegy for the stink bugs

Slow scales at 6pm,
up and down,
scattering up window panes
cabinets, sink edges slicked with
dish soap scum and water droplets,
winding woodwind notes
drop one long wail
into the dragging, humid
dusk of kitchen dark.
Each day I crush a new one on the green tile backsplash,
as the clarinet empties its last breath

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