My House is on Fire
A poem by Rae Spencer

My House is on Fire

I’ll invent a new astrology
Aligning signs to be named

As ladybird constellations, dotted
Across red and orange elytra

Domed armor, hemisphere 
Wings that gleam in the grass

An ambling zodiac of seven spots
Or two, or twenty-two, all

Predicting periods of curious flight
Whimsical winds carrying news

Of nothing new, only the familiar
Aphid scent of days spent

Bent to the business of beetles
Harvesting green hours of light

Scrying tussock and vale, dappled
Horoscopes in the tropic of swale

That span a trophic life, even 
One so small and insignificant

In an insect world, a segmented chitin
World where I need a guide 

For my clumsy size, for flesh worn
Unguarded through charted fields of time

About the Author:

Rae Spencer is a writer and veterinarian living in Virginia. She is the author of Watershed (Kelsay Books, August 2023) and can be found online at raespencer.com.

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