Mal Lovett
I hear the swarm;
that endless, thoughtless buzzing.
I see her kicking. She must have lost her balance,
She only has three legs after all.
Her dusk settles upon her now, just an hour before nine.
She’s afraid to die and here I am,
Shaken and lost and unable to do anything
But watch death pull her by her fierce three legs
And take her away at the break of dawn, my new day.
Her eyes are sealed tight and tired
And the flies breed violence in her still breathing belly.
I can tell she’s losing. Her legs lay flat on the earth,
Her eyes aren’t twitching, and she isn’t so scared now.