An Elegy For A Housefly

Photo: Iqram-O-dowla Shawon

A small portion of your wings,

Housefly, lies here before my eyes.

Lifeless. It escapes the frictive struggle

Between the grinding stones.

My people say ‘a sword that fights

The housefly gets bruised & blunt,

Not leaving a mark on the fly's neck.’

Yes. When your body swallows death

From the jagged hands of the broom,

You taunt the grinding stone,

wedding seeds of Ataare to your

Body.¹ Boneless. I shall keep your

Weightless wing to mock death,

To gauge it with sacks of cowries,

To remember how I blew your body

Into the nostrils of the wind.

Before you gift your life away,

You rub your hands clean,

And wave them to the world

To say life is fickle & smaller than

A small portion of your wings.

¹ Ataare : Alligator pepper

About the author

Arikewusola Abdul Awal is a poet from Saki, Oyo state. His poems have appeared in Teen Lit journals, Synchronized Chaos, ArtingArena, Eboquills, Afrihill Press, Spillwords, World Voice Magazine and elsewhere. He tweets @awalbabatunde11

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