Mayfly Postcard
The mayflies of your youth have not flown
away, they cling dumbly
to screen doors, or dangle like suicides
from stray lengths of spiderweb,
a thousand thousand bodies, turning into
mummies
on the sidewalk in the sun, their wings
crackle
under the tread
of your sneakers,
the mayflies of your youth were also known
as fishflies,
let’s hope every bluegill in Lake
St. Clair is sated, let’s assume
the fishflies have their use, of course
they have
their purpose:
to mate and so continue
the dynasty
of mayflies and also
to bring back to you the mayflies of your
youth,
how they basked on the garage door, or
gathered
like sports fans
around the porch light, you threw them
into spider nets
under the porch, because you loved to see
a spider
struggle and delight
in such a bounty. The fishflies,
of course, live an entire life
in one day.
They are completely
without stomachs
or the curse
of hungry
mouths
