Your black carapace, gently striated,
opens into the dark,
into wings like ribs over a beating heart.
Hearken to the days when children hunted
jars for you,
and you for jars.
How alone you are now,
but for the lights of cars and planes.
Emily Iekel is a student at James Madison University, where she studies foreign languages, creative writing, and music. She’s had poems published in Gardy Loo, the literary magazine of James Madison University, Elfwood, Salome Magazine, and Troubadour21.