Friendship

Ah for the life of the hermit
Parasite with a single host
Serving for food and company
In a dark cell of rotting wood

That the host carves through to consume
While the hermit rides along locked
Into the the back of its larder
Battening while the host’s carving

Who would ever want to give up
A lifestyle convenient as that
Riding your constant companion
With all your nutrition on tap

Pity the instar that flies off
From the fine host consumed to death
And has to make its way alone
And surely must envy its eggs