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
