As though running - in borrowed legs, <br />He lumbers across the table-top, <br /> Lurching forward, <br />Then to the right <br /> And to the left - <br />Pauses for a breath <br /> And tries to remember <br />How to collapse with dignity <br />On Inarticulate limbs. <br />Not knowing <br />Where he's been <br />Or where he's headed <br />Or why he is <br /> Where be is now, <br />He sways <br /> As he weighs up <br />the situation. <br />He remembers the window <br />Where half a life-tine <br /> Was wasted <br />In a hasty flight To nowhere <br />Unable to go where <br />Far horizons called. <br />And sliding, <br />Dropped by <br />Anonymous opposition, <br /> On wings that didn't work <br />Onto legs that wouldn't work. <br />Unstable, <br />But back on the table <br /> On those ponderous haunches, <br />He wanders if another launch is <br /> Out of the question.<br /><br />Terry Donovan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crane-fly/
