The new book in my (with Magdalena Ball) series of seasonal celebration chapbooks of poetry. More to come later. (-;
Excerpt
This is a reminder to enjoy the men in our lives when we can...
Reincarnation
How little I know of dragonflies,
how they come in August,
leave again without a word,
wonder where they live when I can’t
see them, whether they sting, whether
that is a song they sing
or a warning.
This dragonfly, small, the first I’ve seen
dressed in amber and gold sunlight,
joins me in a swim, skims
the water’s surface, divebombs.
Then comes
another—this one familiar
opal, much larger, mating perhaps,
two of them faster than one.
I duck to avoid them, frightened,
feel the water close over
my head. I choke, inhale air.
The things I didn’t know
about my father, his coming and goings,
the fearing he would not return.
One day, only a dawn or decade ago,
he didn’t.
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