A FLY (AND INFINITY)
Whilst I am at my morning exercises,
the limited dumbbell, the selected
Pilates, observing, through the French window,
the shimmering, ornamental grasses –
that obscure the water feature – and the odd
finch and dunnock feasting on the birch
and the lawn, a large, black, raucous fly
hits one of the panes, once, twice, thrice then stops,
becomes silent. We are all learners, most of the time.
It – in a long life I have never learned
how to sex a fly – walks with care, slowly,
methodically, systematically
across the pane, looking for an end to
such transparent nonsense.
Ian Craine
May 25, 2014I particularly like this one. Such a small moment evoked. A very original piece of observation.
John Huddart
June 21, 2014I feel somehow this delightful piece of observation was extracted from a lost section of King Lear!
David Selzer
June 22, 2014There’s a poem in this – or maybe two. One I write, and the other you.
anne wynne
June 26, 2014This made me smile. Created a wonderful picture of a human stopped in his tracks by a busy, confused fly trying to find a way in. Such a lovely observation and it was the last line that really did it for me – I imagine this fly cursing and becoming more exasperated by the “transparent nonsense”. Fab!