161. DRAGONFLIES AND DRAGONS
161.
DRAGONFLIES AND DRAGONS
When I was a girl,
willow thin and
achingly transparent,
we swam in the lake
every day, sleek seals
gliding in and out
of the water.
Dragonflies,
sage companions,
skimmed the surface
of refracted light,
acrobats with
loop-the-loop maneuvers.
My brothers called them
the Devil's Darning Needles,
claimed they'd sew
my fingers together
and stitch my mouth shut.
I hoped they were teasing.
Once upon a time,
dragonflies were dragons,
mystical fire-breathing monsters.
Now, scurrying across the water,
they're a symbol of change,
change far beneath the surface,
evolving to find a deeper meaning of life.
*comments welcome
of the water.
Dragonflies,
sage companions,
skimmed the surface
of refracted light,
acrobats with
loop-the-loop maneuvers.
My brothers called them
the Devil's Darning Needles,
claimed they'd sew
my fingers together
and stitch my mouth shut.
I hoped they were teasing.
Once upon a time,
dragonflies were dragons,
mystical fire-breathing monsters.
Now, scurrying across the water,
they're a symbol of change,
change far beneath the surface,
evolving to find a deeper meaning of life.
*comments welcome
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