You shelter from the mid-day heat
Under the sweltering flagstones
Dead flies are your little treat
You suck their tiny bones
After a prolonged dry spell
I worry you're too dry
So I reach for my water spray
Deep in the cool dark by day you dwell
Emerging into the night sky
To prowl the terrace for your prey
_____________________________
English Ode form:
abab
cde
cde
1 comments:
Aren't we doing well: we might actually make it to the end of the month. Who'd have thought.
With a bit of 200 year old help in places :-)
Don't know why but the tiny fly bones made me laugh. What if they become bleached in the sun and then form part of the landscape for generations.
Post a Comment