In the middle of a task,
Unrelenting, there he was;
No requested, no permission,
All inspection at my cause.
Tiny little flying creature,
Navigating at my sight,
From one bottle jumped to next one,
All distraction with no right.
All the focus on the adorning,
Was diverted by this fly,
He persisted on performing,
Such a scene to my eye.
Zoila T. Flores
Sunday, February 12, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: fly