Small Griefs, Cut It Loose - Reprise

There is a fly, a long bodied creature with transparent wings, called a crane fly. These wings have a small dark colored square most of the way out on the front of the wing if I remember right. They are long legged but the legs are so thin and fragile, that I often see them flying with legs missing. They have a tiny proboscis-like brush in front. I have seen them use it on my skin so I guess it is like a nose but it too is so delicate that I feel nothing. There are many of them around. They often wind up in my bathroom, just as this poem claims. My bathroom is the lightest room in my house because of the skylight, but they like the mirror and the white of my tub. They die there. But I think they die pretty quickly, like mayflies do. I like them. I especially like their wings.

Small Griefs

What I want to know,
Why do you and your sisters
Pick my main bathroom
To hang in, then die?
All the time I move your dead
Young bodies aside
And they fall apart
When I do it, so slender
They are, delicate.

And why die so young?

January 14, 2009 9:10 AM

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Here's a "not a real poem". The real poem flew away. This is the poem I had to write instead. By the way, it is hard to write up this particular tree. The wind gets in my eyes, blows the led lights all over the place. Also, it is a bitch climbing back down.



Cut It Loose

I cut this poem
Loose from me, from my long grasp
Even before done.
Look at it fly off
To the west after the sun
Setting below me
While I'm up this tree.

I want you to know this works.
My poem's long gone.

January 14, 2009 3:46 PM
First Posted at 6/10/2009 07:35:00 PM