A Lesson in Persistence

The Caterpillar

A Lesson in Persistence

Killing time
I thought I was alone at the park table.
Suddenly, there she was
A long, thin, brown body with side stripes of blue-gray and a row of golden diamonds down her back.
How did she get here?
Perhaps a gust of wind tore away the juicy leaf on which she dined,
Sending her on a wild magic carpet ride into my space.
No matter.
She started her trek across the table top
Over one plank at a time.
Even when I moved her back,
Pointed her the other way,
She simply stopped, turned and resumed her course.
Undulating movement on multiple feet mixed with a carpet of whiskers gliding over the table.
Reaching the edge, a search for a way down.
Too far down.
She is persistent.
Keeps trying but
No luck.
Feeling the sudden urge to help
I put my sneaker on the bench so that the toe is near the edge.
She seems to sense the new object and
Reaches, r-e-a-c-h-e-s, r—e—a—c—h—e—s for the shoe.
There! She made it.
Down the side of the shoe
On to the seat and onward to the edge.
Again, too high.
She stretches to her full length
But finds no solid object, no help.
Just then a gust of wind loosens her back feet and she falls to the ground.
She takes a minute to gain her bearings, and then, the persistent march begins again.
Across the concrete
To the grass with its clusters of white clover.
West, always west
Out-of-sight
Towards the setting sun.

rp
4/18/04

(end of post)