Words drift and settle like dragonflies
on slender pond reeds
and barely visible branches.
We reach with open minds,
ensnaring them on pages of cream
with pens of deep iris blue.
How many can we grasp
before the sun crushes through the trees,
and stifling darkness seals the earth’s embrace?
Or perhaps, embracing shadows,
we’ll chase lightning bugs with mason jars,
capturing their glow on screens
that mimic their fleeting light.
This poem was partially inspired by Lia’s absolutely wonderful poem, Under The Star Garden.
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