Hornets

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How strangely like a churchyard skull
The thing that's there amongst the leaves!

A Hornets' nest; but stir the branch
And they'll be round your head and ears!

So wary ana so weaponed,
How do they not possess the wold?

Their lives a watch, their act a doom,
Of their own terrors they must die!

Livid, uneyed, articulate,
How like a skull their nest they make!

© Padraic Colum