Watched a mayfly die: it just flew in
landed on shop table and then
as if planned to the absolute second
waited a beat then fell over and died.
There was no larval requiem, no song
no grand burial processional of sea bugs
and when the shop fan blew him away
I went on mine.
Tag Archives: mayflies
untitled series 4 (Summer 2022), number 2
This is the season of mayflies and we cling too
this idea these mouths make us, wingless,
somehow better – that somehow
our longer day makes us immortal
in comparison to an explosion of life so profound
most dread such transformations