The Fly and I

I feel like I’m waiting

stalled out

My wheels stuck in mud.

Waiting to move again

to breathe out

to reach out

to unclench.

I watch this fly

as he throws himself against my window screen,

and I understand him.

Sometimes

he seems to have resigned to life

on this side of the mesh

and flies off as if to resettle inside,

only to return a few minutes later

to his frantic

lifting and landing

crawling

searching

buzzing

stopping to wring his hands in despair.

Though there is plenty of space on this side of the barrier,

plenty of crumbs and animal butts and overripe fruit

to busy his tiny mind,

he still is relentlessly obsessed

with finding a way out…

to be on the other side.

He and I are the same

This fly and I

I stare out there too,

through my window

across my lawn

past the green sign marking my quiet street

and I smell the scents of the world beyond

feel its pull;

my family and friends

acquaintances and strangers

all trapped behind their own screens

twitching and buzzing

pacing

and waiting

to move again

to breathe out

to reach out

to unclench.

— Skye Nicholson, Columbus