The Yellow Fly of the Dismal Swamp
The Yellow Fly of the Dismal Swamp
pursues me as I slide and stomp
around this bunker where I stay,
to write my book day after day.
The chachalaca bird soars in
to create its awful din
so I’m disturbed body and ear
by fauna choosing to come near
to take my thoughts from past adventures
to the jungle’s native censures,
telling folks who have invaded
that these environs shan’t be raided
by outsiders who have chosen
to do their writing and their dozin’
in a different place and clime
from where before they chose to rhyme.
Thus this silly verse that chose
to invade my earlier prose.
For in the week that we’ve resided
in this small house open-sided
we’ve been treated to a view
of jungle life that’s strange and new.
Birds that chuckle, flies that bite
all day long, then in the night.
As I sit, their home in view
bringing news of them to you!
I swear, these are real names of different birds and insects we’ve seen or been consumed by while sitting at the only place available in our tiny house, totally open to the jungle within the property walls. Only in our bedrooms can we lock ourselves away…usually with a “Yellow Fly of the Dismal Swamp” to keep us company, on wrist, ankle, leg or screen.
Below is a photo of my picture, which they added to the iNaturalist site after Xill sent it in for identification. I flipped it over in my photo above. It really was clinging to the bottom of the limb. (For once, not my limb!)
Below are photos of our small jungle house. As you can see, most of it not cut off from the jungle at all.The first photo is what I see from where I sit writing every day.
Click on photos to enlarge.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 