Package Poem by William Waterway

The tenth of March
the package arrived
on a chilly, windy, clear, sunny day
The same day I saw from my desk window
a Swallow-tailed Kite slowly flying close circles
around a Red-tailed Hawk – as though
in
conversation

The package has just returned from India
with wrapping crumbled, torn, dirty – and a
dangling yellow tag marked from Mumbai
Crisscrossed by tightly tied yarn with one
strand purposely sealed with blob of black wax

Oops – a stink bug landed on top of the package
I fetch a piece of toilet paper, and moisten
one side, in case the bug needs a drink
I nudge the bug onto the tissue
and place both beneath a dark glass on
bedroom dresser – with a Post-it note to
remind me to release the bug in next day’s sun

Now, back to The Package

Yes, it had been opened and then resealed
it contains a book
I sent to one of its authors
a strip of brown packaging tape is imprinted with
red letters
“Foreign Post Mumbai” and red letters
in Indian
which I assume say the same

From my home to distant land
and back again

Like the stink bug beneath the glass
Where will it go?