I sit and eat my sandwich
Under a tree shading me from the sun.
A few pass me by on the path less traveled
Yet a path more beautiful

A fly wants my sandwich and my water
And I wave my hand and send him off.
But he persists.
Finally I give him a piece of lettuce and then a piece of *******.
He absolutely loves it, walking all over and ******* the water.

He thanks me as he crawls on my arm.
And goes back for another bite.

I write this poem and he looks on from my had,
As if rejoicing in the fact that he is noticed.
He circles and walks around, watching me write.

He thanks me again and takes flight.