The Effortless Fly

The effortless fly

Is poetic

In the most romantic sense

This little black insect

Landing on the hair on my arm

Tickling me

On a warm spring day

The sway of the trees

Give way to the slight wind

The effortless fly

Lives for a few weeks

In the passage of time

So much shorter than mine

As I swat and swat and swat

This dead bloody effortless fly

On the palm of my hand

© 2026 David Greg Harth

26.01.27.17.08.19@345ParkNYC