ODE TO A FLY
Among the creatures I despise
are many, friend, but not you.
I have no argument with flies.
Yet soon, my friend, I'll swat you.
Please know, this is not personal.
It's just a nasty habit.
Someone leaves the swatter out,
distractedly I grab it,
I raise my hand and flick my wrist
and smack the windowpane.
And then, poor fly, you don't exist,
except for one small stain.
You're born, you spread your wings, you buzz,
you're zippin' and you're zoomin',
as fine a fly as ever was.
Forgive me. I'm a human.
Last edited by Roger Slater; 05-20-2011 at 08:45 AM.
Reason: substitute new version
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