Husk Of A Horsefly Poem by Donal Mahoney

Husk Of A Horsefly



It's the last day of September
as I carefully toe
the husk
of a horsefly
out of my office
onto bright tiles
Stella will buff
to a sheen
while I am at home
surveying my supper.
But now I have time
to sit at my desk
till it's time for my train.
I can lean back in my chair
and listen to the day
drone near the ceiling.
Soon it will
helicopter down
like a horsefly,
touch ground
and taxi awhile
before braking.

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