Odonata, perched gracefully on the rim
peeks a reader
sneaks, chasing away lies, deceit
seeks skāld
seats, resting lightly on one finger
of a writing tripod,
pointing in the same direction
as the immortalizing nib
meets, brushing for a brief moment
greets, good news of you is on its way.
On its wings I read
and all along its body, stretched
from head to tail
Still, so as not to frighten it off, I whisper
300 million years you’ve been swimming,
skimming the surface
of a deep, dark pool
of (r)evolution
deny the cry
it screams inside
wrecking havoc
flying free
so much to see
darting swiftly
what sways
what gives
you lee way.
In your eyes I see
30,000 ways
that I could get to you
to move you
to tears
watercolor pigment
captured iridescence
absorbed in this
your image statuesque
about to
flutter your wings
and take off
but you stay
absorbed into my storyline.
Fly off
the page
words passed along
across the globe
farther than you could reach on your own
you live millions more times, your fate sœwn.

Inspiration: a dragonfly who landed on one of the fingers of my writing hand in August (41).
For complete author’s reading of the poem “sœwn”
Written 02–22 Nov (42)