Fly
Buzzing
the house fly flew
Flying:
was its pleasure;
aside from locating a lump of lard
Seeing with a thousand eyes, the world was taken in:
a dead flea, a rubbish bin, grease spots and a drop of yellow yoghurt
Landing on leftovers, his soft snout slides from under his face
His sponge tongue drinks a droplet
A hop and drop to the top of the bench
A quick lick of his hands, he grooms
his bulbous eyes to keep clean
The head tilts
A shadow stretched across his view
The world flickered in his thousand eyes
Danger
Flapping his wings,
they lifted his black body off the benchtop
Heading home,
he had a good day’s work
A taste of toad,
a smell of soil:
all wonder for his toil
E. Avenel Perry