Mayfly Poem by Luke J. Holt

I was born on a day so green
it filled my eyes with blue and yellow
I rose from a snug quilt of grass
I froze endlessly before my birth
the grass was the granddaughter of Winter
the sun was the bride of forever

the riverbank was dry and strewn with branches from hurricanes
April was a shrew who grew nicer
and nursed my unborn wings
poised to bade my season sweet

I have no stomach

I was called to this life to find you and fall
billions dance as we do
none survive

but the fanning of your wings was a nectar only wind could impersonate
and in binary reverence to ourselves and the stars we gained might in our bliss
and flew
higher even then our king and queen

and God relaxed his powder bicep and smiled the smile of my joy
and said:
*this little bug will be king till sundown, he hath earnestly slept alone for centuries of himself, I will leave him with his crown and wreath, but
when the sky sobs orange, I bring him floods and a great falling*

the colors of day were as wild and priceless as birth
every moment in air we were kissed and gifted with boundless and unforgettable sunshine

one cloud came and sat dour and suspicious in a sky that encouraged our aging wings to stay on
born with the impulse of love and infinity
I clung hopelessly to altitude
a tree sneezed a fall leaf
and the discharge was the color of Thanksgiving
Mayflies love forever in spite of eternity

there lies a soaked bridge
over the dark brook that laughs all night
mocking the marred structure with natural, unstoppable noise
i forgave the bridge for its injuries
i cursed the river for flooding
the river flooded at Twilight
as the sun begged it to wait

i know that spring may never come again
and if it may
MAY I FLY
and fail not to greet the moon with you