Cut

At midnight precisely, the lights go out
and electric sound ceases its insistent buzz;
a confused housefly lands on my screen.
Instantly disconnected from my senses
my inner mouth makes an ‘O’.
I negotiate the stairs and
standing on tiptoe at the window
glimpse what I think is your candle,
but may be a distant car.

It takes fourteen minutes to adjust;
I fumble for a head torch,
the housefly gets excited and sits on its light.
I rejoice in the ticking of a clock
and check the fuses.
It has now been twenty three minutes,
my batteries are about to die,
it’s been fun, sort of,
but the pesky housefly,
grateful for reassurance, is dancing
annoying tangos with my words,
and soon we will both be
inescapably in the dark.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

6 thoughts on “Cut”

  1. I encourage the flies to stay outside…but the other day I rescued a damsel fly. I’ve written by moonlight, and candle and hearth fire flame.
    The letters end up being large on the page…but they get there.

    I like this piece. Nicey done.

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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