In England Again after Years Away

      Because tonight is warm
and I forget to close the door,

      wanting summer
to stay a long time,

      the craneflies hover in.

Inside the white lampshade
      they tick and vibrate

and when I pick them up
      their legs unfold

like the legs of old porch furniture.

      Their flutteriness in my palm
makes me almost drop them.

      I throw them outside,
they fly back in

      and because I am the sort of person

who ascribes motive
      easily to things

I think they are persistent
      although it is instinct

fluttering back into the house,

      my luminous house
where I flick off lights

      and smooch the cool
cheek of the wall

      back to my desk in the now-dark

which is thick, articulate,
      and temporary.

Copyright © 2009 Lois Williams All rights reserved
from Cave Wall
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission