Ah! Little Woodlouse - Are You Unreal? Poem by Brian P FitzGerald

Ah, little woodlouse,
wood-rot emerging,
light-avoiding, damp-a-seeking
along the path you crawl.

Yes, little wood louse,
surroundings-aware,
dryness-detesting,
distressed and sad you are.

Know, little wood louse,
the journey you make
exists for me and me alone,
An illusion you are.

Go, little wood louse;
I shut my eyes -
Depart my world, exist no longer.
Back to dank and dark decay.

You, little woodlouse,
In my mind a passing glimmer;
You live no more, a brief transition:
I alone, created your being.

Get this, wee creature,
So ‘Meaningless! Meaningless! '
Your life is but a thing imagined;
I alone, am real.

Ah, little wood louse,
My eyes I open, I see you've gone;
What manner of being were you?
You held no thoughts,

No soul, no mind, no spirit,
Of these, not one;
Whimsy, I say, a fancy - no more -
Just a creation of my consciousness.

(East Yorkshire, UK,25 December 2011)