We attempt rescue, unable to bear
the stardust-coated dragonfly
beat, beat, beating
frantic on the glass.

We entice him to perch
on our extended lifeline-broom
nurse him in a box, where he flutters
quivers, lies quietly blue.

My son cries bitterly
as we place a minute cross
upon the dragonfly grave
while intoning our final goodbyes:

We honor those who have fallen victim
to this fatal architectural trap, lured
by skylights of enticing white-light death
and the paned illusion of freedom.

In admiration of winged determination
and perseverance in the face of futility
we carefully tend the fragile, curved bodies
lay them here to rest under the mock orange.

years of gauze-weighted detritus
swept beneath these ponderous shrubs
a reminder - what seems like freedom
                                                         ­           often isn’t.

All the damages done
which are  huge in magnitude,
constant repairs need to be run
by efforts taken with right attitude

The impact an event has on us
takes time to settle the dust
Like after being run over by a bus
months of treatment becomes a must

It takes a day to plough the field
for a healthy plant to sow a seed.
Plenty of water for a fulfilling yield
and a season of patience brings what you need.

I thought I was yours,
I could have sworn you were mine,
But when I looked at the clock
I saw our love was out of time.
-i.w.

I'm drowning in an ocean
But the water tastes so sweet.
It's not that far around me
But miles beneath my feet.

Everyone is walking on their own bridges,
But their bridges have never been wet.
Their hands are outstretched
and calling my name.
How could they all forget?

"You're the one who pushed me in!"
I yell, as water fills my throat.
As I sink I'm offered one of two things;
A set of gills or a float.

I'm used to being wet now;
Is drowning such a crime?
There's nothing for me at the surface
But resuming my job as a mime.

See, my misery is my harmony,
So if I can learn to breathe in the sea,
Refuse to think, let myself sink,
This might be able to work for me.

So stop putting all your hands out.
Please, you might fall in too.
I've learned to love the water
But the water might not love you.

I love you, Mother, Father, Lover.
I'm sorry for all that I've done.
I know that this may hurt you,
But I'd rather swim than run.

The merchant taps his toes impatiently
And tells me now to pick.
But he should know how this goes by now;
Goodbyes are never quick.

I shed a tear for my friends and family.
I think of every song that I've ever sung.
"I don't want either," I tell him.
And the water fills my lungs.