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THE PANE

(learning the comfortable way,

but what is more terrifying?)

 

An autumn day, the warm sun glistens,

The door stands slightly ajar.

A fly buzzes the aspen center piece

Then turns to leave the cubicle

To return to the warmth of the light.

 

Zig-zagging through the window's glass

He stops, to bounce back, then,

With renewed vigor,

Bounces back storming the crystal obstacle

To shatter it to air once again.

 

Fly, need you batter yourself so

With the relentless pounding against this wall,

When to forget what remains outside

Is not to forget so much?

It is warm and secure within these walls.

 

Outside is the cold that will kill you,

Outside the spiders and birds will rob you.

Why not remain with us, silently sitting,

Forgetting the plethoric world?

What is more terrifying than death itself?

 

The fight ceases against the pane.

The quiet reality of being too tired

Settles within compounded eyes.

All that is left of is non-adaptive struggle,

No longer pointed to escape.

 

The fly situates against the glass,

No longer buzzing, even softly,

Knowing of these colorful, warm surroundings,

And accepting not the comfort,

But that he's trapped to die

Upon the window's pane.

 

                                                                                   ~~~ by Michael Chaussee

 

 

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