That Small Feeling That Something’s Wrong
My intuition sounds its gong.
I have an inkling something’s wrong.
I look around for what’s amiss,
but cannot tell what signals this.
My arm and neck hairs stir and rise,
as if to warn me of surprise.
This tiny hunch keeps me alert,
but insight is a fickle flirt.
When nothing happens, it goes away
and I live out my normal day.
That tiny niggling little prickle
might lead to nought, for insight’s fickle,
and sometimes things are just so small
that they aren’t there at all.
This poem, actually written last year, seemed appropriate both for the “prickle” prompt and for relaying information about the Lone Star Tick just passed on to me by a friend. This tick seems to have supplanted the Lyme disease scare in the Eastern U.S. A friend and her boyfriend have both been bitten by it and have developed the meat allergy. More grist for the worry mill: http://www.popsci.com/lone-star-tick-meat-allergy
The prompt today was prickle. The image was copied from the internet.
What next ?!! Must read more on this new threat.
Your poem’s a good one.
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I think nature is out to get us. We need to take better care of it and perhaps it would stop picking on us. This new tick I am told is spreading quickly. One female lays 3,000 to 8,000 eggs at a time. Urgh.
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Nice one. Very apt .
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What nasty things those critters carry!
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What happens when they eat meat?
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Never mind, I just read the symptoms…
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With some, the reaction is so server that they can’t even eat dairy products or they go into anaphylactic shock. Scary. Just waiting for advent of the veggie tick and we’d all starve!
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Too late for me. I’m a beef eater.
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So better check yourself for ticks!
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