palm trees

and you
and flies
lots and lots of flies

I brush them off you
let them land on me
instead
of being productive I spend
my day trying to kill them
trying to stop them from going inside

not an easy game
to play
I can only assume they think I am as stupid
as I think they are

and I wonder what their goal is
whilst wondering
what is mine?

I haven’t written a poem in so long
not even in my head
but now looking at the palm trees
swaying against the pool blue sky

I guess this is the right time to try

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