Where Are the Flies?

Where are the flies?

Where are the spiders?

Man, afraid of a Boogieman

Don’t have their backyard barbecues.

So, the flies die.

So, the spiders don’t make their intricate webs on my windowsill.

So, man, being infinitely wise.

Has not a clue that he is a part of the ecosystem.

The flies feed the fish, the flies feed the bats

The flies feed the spiders, the flies feed the pheasant.

I had seen so few this year,

Because the carcasses of our mid-summer feasts

Do not grace the foul odors of the trash with the maggots.

For, those little maggots feed the sparrows,

And the flies feed the bats,

And the bats are fed on by the fox

And the fox feeds on the hens

Who feeds on the flies.

So, it remains, that man is necessary,

Yet, who is feeding the man,

Now that we cower in our homes?

The rich harvest delayed.

Man must, yes he must,

Shop sheltering indoors.

For, the realization is that man is needed

For the fly, who feeds the duck and fish.

And without man, the fly wanes

So I see maybe fifteen all season long.

So it soon comes that man was necessary

And man is a part of nature.

And without him, on God’s green earth,

The ecosystems fail’th.