MAYFLIES, I believe, would pity us.
If mayflies could find the time to.
Not that they can. With their lifespan,
pity is not something mayflies incline to.
If a mayfly thought of the fusses we make,
living our too many years,
she would in sadness her tiny head shake,
and she would shed mayfly briny tears.
She'd say it's a crime, wasting your time
on matters so unsubstantial:
music and art, politics, nonsense.
Religion. All things financial.
Juvenile mayflies mature for a year.
Adults die in a day.
“Born” with the dawn, dead at sunset,
and yet, don't forget, they convey DNA.
Mayflies, despise inefficiency.
Mayflies never do dawdle.
Mayflies, unlike us, intelligently
do just what they are born to.
Mayflies know what LIFE is about.
They remember what we do not.
They concentrate on propagating.
Mayflies tend to “Begat” a lot.
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