>the ride

>i gave you a lift on my windscreen,
uninvited. you just jumped on when i
was waiting for the traffic light to get green

and as i drove you across swiss highways
vulnerable and exposed to the wind and the
rain, that hit the screen. i didn’t turn on the
wipers – your fragile look made me wanna
protect you

and i wondered if you’d make it
(the swiss police wouldn’t accept
a grasshopper as an excuse for a
stop on the hard shoulder..)
but when i arrived at my workplace
you were still there, still moving, still
alive… and you waved good-bye with
your antennae… and disappeared…

would’ve loved if you had also joined
me at my desk… to make my day
a bit greener…

I’m linking up today with Emily’s Imperfect prose on thursdays  – jump over and have a look what others were writing..


23 responses to “>the ride

  1. >I can't help but wonder when this sort of thing happens…was it really just a grasshopper, or some friendly spirit on the other side who wanted to be with you, and see you seeing them; giving them your attention, talking to them and smiling…Feeling your concern that they survive the journey.

  2. >I live in Florida, and sometimes we get little lizards on the windscreens. I always worry about them! Kinda glad your little green grasshopper made it all the way, safely.This little poem made me smile, today. And I needed a smile! Thanks.

  3. >I always feel bad for those type of hitchhikers! Neat poem, Claudia! I'm glad he survived his journey. I often wonder if they are then totally confused in their new location!

  4. >Ahh, such a sweet and tender experience you describe here. If only we all chose to be a bit more care-full each day, imagine the how much slower and softer our lives would be.

  5. >green grasshoppers on the glass always condense my soul into their world. yesterday, one dipped out of sight before my five-year-old could see it… i felt so sad for him…

  6. >I can so imagine the feeling of knowing this is petty and unnecessary but you just can't bring yourself to get rid of him, and as time goes by, you grow attached. Maybe I'm pushing it, but it seems a good metaphor for life's greatest relationships.

  7. >I love this Claudia. We had a similar experience with a little lizard. When we arrived home, he was still hanging on. He hopped off and into my flower garden!

  8. >how do you do it? you take something so every-day and make it so personal and magical… i love visiting here, claudia. you weave wonder. thank you so much for linking, friend. xo

  9. >Grasshopper was probably scared to death, hoping you'd slow down, not have an accident…hanging on for dear life! –grin!(I'd have done the same as you…Shhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone, I'm supposed to be macho-man here!)