A bluebottle flies around our bedroom,
even though it’s winter outside – sub zero
and central heating turns and soon clicks off
tonight; you wouldn’t want to be that creature
buzzing in a slowly freezing world
now, would you, when there’s no help to offer?
Tomorrow we’ll arise unlike our insect-friend,
unfeeling sheets and duvet, balmy blood;
that’s the difference – inner warmth
we share with others, keeping humans soft,
un-insect like:
and hot.
Indeed. Us humans are a distinguished life-form, and I share your deep reverence and respect for the humanity of our species. But, there are people in this world who, in my opinion, are as dead and cold inside as that blue bottled fly would have been the next morning.
ReplyDeleteAn enjoyable and inspiring poem. Thanks.
@salaamfreeland (twitter)
Yes thanks - that's a good distinction - I was hinting at it!!! J
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