an insect
dropped on my hand
I am not sure what it is
the size of a grain of rice
with wings
I have seen these things
all of my life
I let it live
it is a friend of mine
neither it or I
mean any harm
it heads up arm
only to reach my elbow
then jump off
then fly away

I am content sitting here
on my back porch
alone
staring at the stars
that blanket over my home
I do not need
to be seen
to be known
I am around
all types of friends
things that fly
and things that build
webs between tree limbs
or things that crawl
around my feet
their colors are beautiful
and I cherish the comfort
they seem to have around me
there is no love
that could compete
with the love
that mother nature brings

I used to think romantic love
were the only love to be real
then as I become older
I believe romantic love
does not exist
those pretty girls
are like the insects
an equal part of
the same world
that I live in

the same feeling
you get from a kiss
is the same feeling
you get when you bond
with a friend
or when you see a dandelion
take flight into the wind
scattering
only to land
and you know
it will begin again