Just to carry on this week’s happy mood, an oddly hopeful take by Christopher Reid. And the thought that the solution to creative problems is always nearby is encouraging.
A fat fly fuddles for an exit
at the window pane.
Bluntly, stubbornly, it inspects it,
like a brain
nonplussed by a seemingly simple sentence
in a book,
which the glaze of unduly protracted acquaintance
has turned to gobbledygook.
A few inches above where the fly fizzes
a gap of air
waits, but this has
not yet been vouchsafed to the fly.
Only retreat and a loop or swoop of despair
will give it the sky.