On the arbitrariness of life
By Parson Thru
- 4319 reads
Flies, assorted sizes, flit around the wreckage.
It must have happened this morning,
whilst the asphalt was still wet.
Dappled shade having moved to one side,
the mess is atrophying in the breeze.
The flies are crawling in and out of shattered casing,
drinking up salts, perhaps laying opportunistic eggs
before the sun, now high above, dries everything up.
I marvel at the arbitrary arrival of wings.
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Comments
I enjoyed this little moment
I enjoyed this little moment in time, thank you parson
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Moved? Where are you going?
Moved? Where are you going?
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Ah! I wouldn't sit under a
Ah! I wouldn't sit under a tree here today - it's blowing a gale
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These captured moments are
These captured moments are always so wonderful, like paintings capturing the detail. I echo insert's comments about the weather - chucking it down here. I envy you your tree.
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Left undisturbed there's no
Left undisturbed there's no such thing as waste, nature cleans everything up quite efficiently. A marvel to observe from beneath your tree, i can hear the buzzing. There's a peacefulness in the buzz of flies around a carcass...
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just doing their job? we call
just doing their job? we call it waste disposal but to flies it's great fortune. I like how you convey time, with the ashalt drying, shadows moving, blood drying.
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Pausing on the sidelines of
Pausing on the sidelines of life and death, this little gem is our facebook and twitter pick of the day - do share if you like it too!
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