You might as well try to tame that lock of brambles

with a child’s podgy hands, or tie the sky

into knots and ribbons, as attempt to catch

that purring dragonfly between thumb and forefinger.

A slim treat noisily nosing in from the window,

its giddy reel inseparable from the chaos it sweeps over:

the guidebooks and the street maps of invented places,

a book of days, the plans you were not meant to keep.

Dragonfly, Sam Meekings

the bestiary


One thought on “Dragonfly

  1. Pingback: Books Read in 2013 | The cat that walks by herself

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