The Drifter Fly Poem by Francois Hoon

One morning I awoke with sun spilling to my bed
With my awareness weak I notice an intruder by his instincts bound and lead
Roaming through my room on a quest known his own
Flying midst a crisp morning breeze he ventures alone
His apparent intent to my face ever bent
Making circles in this space shared by two of unlike kind
He roams about in pointless purpose
In a place and a moment not meant for him

(2008-11-20)