Dragonflies In The Marsh
Emperor Dragonfly
Dragonflies In The Marsh
By Rick Black
I love the dragonflies in the marsh—
slim, silent, hovering assassins
that accelerate effortlessly
like race cars.
I love the sound of the word itself, too,
rising at the end, the long “i” liberated,
aloft, leaving behind its doubts
and tracing its hopes.
Through these unforgiving spaces,
dragonflies turn at invisible corners
to avoid the tree swallows,
to catch their prey.
We need bread, too.
And beauty. And we need places
where we can turn at will
for solace.
