The Fly is a marriage poem, a celebration of life-long love and the richness it adds to a life full of ups and downs.
The Fly – Marriage Poem
The fly hops from fruit to dung0
with his thread legs and fleeting wings
now on a juicy apple, now on a rotten sandwich
earning the swoosh of a towel
on his dirty travels.
Remember it was here we locked lips
for the very first time
sure, the kisses would stir up a ripple
upon the ocean, reach further than
the horizon and farther than the sunlight.
And so the kiss knocked over
the house, love built
a windswept castle
instead.
Inside, dirty flies and rotten apples
fine pie and soft sofas,
outside, meadow flowers,
a shabby shed and old car
a dog playing with a lost sock
and a party balloon.
And the beetle-browed wind
blows hot and cold
day in, day out
meddling on Sundays and
pushing on Mondays
ripping clothes off the line
ready to be set upon by
that dirty fly who
noted that first kiss
while mixing dirt and sugar,
on the veranda where we
sit and drink beer over a
broil or a belly full of laughs
wind blowing in our faded faces
and so we go on
between bills and trash
sheets and champaign
the screams and whispers
of the wind and the fluttering wings
of that fly who
saw that first kiss while
hopping from sweat peaches to cow dung
before napping on a bed of roses.
Leave a Reply