The Dunnowhat Bug.

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I don’t know his lifespan

Stretched in the sunshine

Card table top

By the window.

Cottage is ours

For ten days.

Lyn is off teaching for the summer.

I have the same from the store.

Except a meeting next Tuesday

In Town.

Bug here on the table flies.

Does he have appointments.

A mate?

Resentments from past rivals?

Children that will

Recognize him?

Will he see the sunrise

Tomorrow?

Or fall to a cold floor.

Destiny done?

Long abdomen, six legs.

Shimmering wings, lengthy.

Does his composite eye

See 50 images of me?

Of that salt shaker?

So much done, invented

For the little gaffer

Who has only a couple of days.

To graduate, replicate, fascinate.

And then drop, crinkle and

Turn to the etherial.

His Maker scratching 

His head for the next good idea.

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