As If To Touch It Poem by Alistair Graham

I was minding my own business when a fly landed on my head
I just stood there, smoking my cigarette
I could feel the tiny legs moving, on my scalp

I lifted my hand, laid it gently on my hair
The creature walked onto my middle finger

I released the last of the smoke from my lungs
before gently breathing in the fly's direction

The fly flew up, into the air
I watched it fly out of sight

The sky above my head was bottle-blue
I lifted my hand, as if to touch it

I squashed my cigarette
into the metal box on the wall