Messengers - Feb. 16, 2026
playing with a fly, I wiggle a finger and it lands on the tip of the pen, preens its wings, already glossy in the morning sun no brain there though it’s showing a unique bravery I mean, could you tell the difference between one of life’s emissaries and a dumb insect? so I lean closer to read its lips but it flies over, lands on doggie poop, dancing from one nugget to the next, playing with its friends if that was a secret message from the universe I’ll pass and wait fo