Monday, September 26, 2016

Orange Fly

Orange Fly

A ten millimetre fly
flew onto the window at
fifteen hundred hours
as from its rest in Ashford Kent
the blue train moved

the fly
head legs
back belly (pale)
proboscii (paler still)
and wings translucent
was in fact all over orange

as we increased speed
the fly seemed to position itself
aerodynamically
head forward
feet clutching the window
resolutely

history
evolution
I put on my spectacles
science of flies in extreme conditions
there must be a name
for this determination
to hold on

as the wind strengthened
so did I’m sure its tiny adrenalin
how would it breathe
battered by motes of dust and pollen!
and its grip is slipping

let go I shouted
in deafening silence
so not upset fellow passengers
who might have had
seizures of anxiety
had they come aware
of the perilous predicament
of the orange fly

unaccustomed
to the seismic new
technologies of travel
(no longer the slow gait
of plough and carriage)
as it searches pastures new

and now as the train
accelerates again
its eyes are closed
its cheeks rippling in
the ferocious slipstream

Oh two of its legs
have lost their purchase
Let go I cried
soundlessly again
my body arched in sympathy
my hands clenching
the seat in front
and moist eyes
reflecting round its tiny form!

now clinging
by two legs only
go home!


and it was gone.

(©Emile Sercombe)