BABY FLY

Berthold Lippel

a baby fly drowned today

in my breakfast milk.

it moved its many legs

leaving  the stage 

with a tiny dance,

having lived its life

paid its dues.

I feel a strange sorrow

wondering

where are its parents

who taught it to fly,

what was its favorite food,

was it old enough

to have loved.

maybe I chased it away once

from cheese or jam

with an irritated wave.

now it has joined

the immense daily dying.

life is a perpetual

funeral.

  • Author: Berthold Lippel (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 30th, 2016 14:38
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 38
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Comments +

Comments3

  • BRIAN & ANGELA

    The dying fly is a popular dance move in the UK ! One lies on ones back and waves arms and legs helplessly in the air ! Over 60's have died doing it ! In the UK flies are the most despised insect and children are taught to say "Shoo Dirty Fly". Under the microscope they are very beautiful and they have compound eyes so they see a thousand of us. I admire you for devoting a whole poem to the death of a baby fly. Like writing a poem about Adolf Hitler. Well crafted poem which asks many unanswered questions. Thanks for sharing. BRIAN

    • DubbleDhee

      Sounds just like the Dying Cockroach position we did in Army Basic Training. Mainly as a way for the Drill Sergeant to humiliate us. Anyway, nice poem. Somewhat morbid and gross, but a nice attempt to humanize a creature we normally don't care much for. Thanks Berthold!

    • Berthold Lippel

      Thanks for your comment. I learned another mad thing about the UK! And by the way I admire your energy in commenting so well about many poems--a vital encouragement to budding and seasoned poets.

    • lysistrata

      The grey plane sprayed the black fly
      The black fly poisoned the white milk
      The white milk rinsed off the yellow bones.
      Life is indeed a perpetual funeral, my friend.






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