Buzz

Watching the drones hover, whirl, and drop

Above every neighborhood in the city

Bringing automated holiday cheer

Reminds me of long ago when I was young

I came upon a dead dog

Partially decomposed in a field

It may have been a coyote

Definitely not a fox

But it was sunbleached

With wiry fur

A long muzzle

Ears still pointy

The left side of its face 

Was partially gone

Lying in the dirt

Maggots boiled in its eyes

Grubs

And a cloud of mites infected the air

All around its head

Every kind of tick and flea

They were so small, but

There were so many

I could hear them

Hopping and

Disturbing the air

I got closer 

Staying far enough away

To avoid the bugs

But looking for other details

Trying to fully understand

This circle of life

And palette of horror

Then, the fleas and grubs

Were leaving eggs

Taking away flesh

Now, the drones are leaving holiday cheer

But taking away jobs

It’s pestilence and infestation

In the 21st century

(12/2/19)