by Ande Finley
Dragonfly leaves behind
a random trail
in the dense pause
of an island afternoon,
spattering light through muddy reeds
flickering
through the rising of several suns
and maybe a bit of moon
a scant few hours
to hatch, mate, lay eggs
fly with the erratic grace of her kind
inhabit her fragile body, fully,
for each allotted minute
untethered to time
She touches down on a wild rose
embracing
hot dry soft wet
her world
a sensate celebration
cool mist
the solidity of leaf
the snap of an amphibious jaw
and its gift
of oblivion.
©Ande Finley
Ande Finley is euphoric to see her life-long dream of writing full time manifesting here in her remote Lopez forest. Her English major in college morphed somehow into a professional life of crunching numbers and she guiltily filed her writing life away until all her kids had left home. Now, she mainly composes for herself, but her work has appeared in Uncapped, Satsang, and previously in SHARK REEF. With the help of her brilliantly-creative family, she produced her first chapbook, Simply Love, to commemorate her mother’s 75th birthday. She offers heartfelt thanks to her husband Scott for all the years of unwavering support.
All work by Ande Finley