Opening my eyes from restless sleep
I look across at my bedside lamp,
Kept alight for safety’s sake
Lest my drowsy body slip and fall.
There on the shade I see a spot
That moves as I watch,
Takes wing and darts
Across the room to another perch.
It’s summertime in Texas, hot
And cursed with Nature’s cleaning crew,
Flies that find the slightest clot
Of food, whatever form it takes.
Instinct clutches my mind, and I
In turn clutch my trusty swatter, near,
Ignoring whatever risk it brings
Of flailing wildly and falling flat.
A million years of hunter minds
Grab my body and, blind to danger
Or fear, I swing and miss --
Must be the dozenth time tonight.
©2024 John I. Blair, August 3, 2024
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