Preface

 

Fly April May Flies

 

Delicately wings beating, mayfly thing.

Hovering, skitting by on gossamer wing;

Standing water, pond skating.

In such short, brief lives and climax culminating

With hundreds frantically in mass mating.

And end.

 

From two years an underwater larva growing;

Transformed then triumphal, to glide and flit,

And in few hours of flight, that is it.

Gone…

(Similar ancestors of such

Have been doing as much

For hundreds of millions of years.)

 

 

And I am getting older

Fast are going years, months and days;

As I approach my latter life’s phase.

Retired, contemplating, too much thinking,

When I should be greedily drinking

Anew.

This April and May of early Summer 22.

Because I know

It will fly me by

As it does the mayfly.