Poem Hunter
0207 Hover Fly
MS (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

0207 Hover Fly

The hover fly
that's just demonstrated
that it's one of the Creation's greatest
and smallest, most compact miracles of lawful
imagination (imagine flying, then stopping
quite still in the air, no slowing down,
just, zap, like that, dead steady,
and it's smaller (!) than a helicopter, wow)
right here in front of me in silhouette, but
illuminated on one wing by the PC screen,
and pausing for a freeze-frame moment of eternity
as if to tell me something
(illumination, too?) -
all this, and yet it
doesn't know I'm writing about it.

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Comments (2)

Spot on, Denis. Stuck out like a sore...cliché... Thanks. I've amended it.
Michael. This is great, there is an element of spontenaity to it, bet also it is as if you took the sensation and thought about it. I love that this ends on 'presumably', it certainly shows the strength of that word. I think that the bit about 'like what I've just written' is what gives it the feeling of immediacy. I am not sure about the inclusion of that.