These harmless spindly winged creatured
dance and scuttle on the bathroom walls
lacking pincers or appendages for harm --
would be better off among the plant kingdom.
Alas there's bath-water, but where's food?
A mystery how they dance about, their legs
barely landing on tile, machines more intricate
than any time-piece, but bound to pass
within the hour, ephemerids after all
spawned among dank stones of the crawlspace--
too swift to be identified in a field guide
before they're flushed limp down a drain.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment