The Fly in the Dog Bowl

A fly in the dog bowl — poor thing!
          Drowning is not a fate
          To be wished, even on a fly.
I lean down to take the bowl
          When he winks at me and,
          Smiling widely,
Does the butterfly,
          The backstroke,
                    And even the dog paddle!
Perhaps this sly charmer
          Is in training
          For the Buglympics!
I pour the water into the flower
          Thirsting
          On the back porch —
With great dignity,
          My new, wingèd friend
          Climbs on a stalk
And towels himself off on a petunia leaf.