No Fly Zone

Sitting on a bench. This bench here.

Hands clasped.

Sounds muffled.

Time pierced by my stare.

My hair ruffled by the wind.

It doesn’t distract.

There is something important

I’m piecing together.

Something so grand, so eloquent.

A fly flies into my nose

And in that instant I’m out of the zone.

That thought is gone, completely forgotten.

World peace is gone

Because of one greedy fly.