Saturday, May 9, 2015

The Cultured Fly and the Ordinary Robin

by Jim Rapp

It is May 9th and I have yet to see my first Robin.
I don’t doubt that they have returned in numbers
but my travels these days are, shall we say, “urban”
not calibrated to bring me near red-breasted plumbers.

But I did see my first fly of the season,
a heavy matronly fly, no doubt coming
into the concert intent on finding the reason
doors stood open and welcoming.

She arrived I believe, during Berger’s, “The Banks of Spey,”
drew attention away from the “Short Overture for Strings,”
joined an “impromptu” rendition of, “Happy birthday!”
and after “L’Olimpaide” and “Rhosymedre,” left, applauding.

Such culture in a fly with a belly full of maggots
is indeed unusual, and gives one some hope for the world we live in.
Still – I plead that my preference is not that of a bigot –
I’d trade the buzz of a “cultured fly” in a flash
                        for the chirp of an ordinary Robin

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