The January Fly Poem by Elizabeth Liechti

Indecisive wind first west now south
Warm surface air, still, the threat of Lake Superior gales
Glancing fox-sly from underneath.
I sit on a dirty plastic garden chair
Cajoled outside by bits of sunlight highlighting the green
Lurking under the brown grass.
He lands on the stoop, bulky in black
A tiny ink soaked bear with fairy wings
Cautious of being gust upended
His presence as ridiculous as the taste-of-tropics temperature.
It's January for pete's sake
There should be wind-chill factors
An iced over trunk lock guarding two Sav-A-Lot bags
Of frozen milk and cheap bread.
Showing my age.
Time to story-tell the kids of wading with titan's strides
Through blue snow eyebrow deep.
The fly and I
Sit side by side and enjoy our brief slice of eternity.