This brown cockroach,
shelled against change
these hundreds of millions
of years of haphazard creation,
survives these sacred deadly ages
of change and no change.
Still, I am expected to efface this minion
of evolution on the heel of my shoe
and sacrifice thereby another chance
to meet the living primordial—
made of some accident,
therefore kin to my accidence—killing
in one ancient life some part of my own life,
this shared depth of fellow-being.