Silver fabric
Like delicate flesh
Stretched long and thin,
Housing twisted veins.
An imperceptible palpitation
Displaces the light breeze,
creating its own swath of air,
unnoticed by the world.
Skimming dark pools,
fed by the breath of flight.
Rippling tides
echoing in waves.
Shimmering fluorescents,
illuminated by summer’s
honeyed, patched glow.
Slender and supple
gliding rapidly through time
so as to appear invisible.
A startled gasp,
a beckoning finger,
the only indication of discovery.
Exuding elegance,
Secreting mystery,
Fluttering in solitude.
Suspended,
surviving on the whims of a
fickle wind.
Alighting one moment,
Blown away the next,
Swirling, spinning,
flying,
Spoken in many languages,
But always one thing.
My Ważka,
My Libellule,
My Dragonfly.
Dragonfly