My Poetry: The Dragonfly

When summer glazes grass gold, graze its field
The dimmed diamond you are. Catch heaven’s haunt
Free fall his air, yet Death’s decreed force flees,
And skate the loved-low grass, then off—swooped bend

He sweeps the sky, hurling his heaven home’d,
His heaven-havened heart. The double winged
Darter who daunts his wind, his dappled wings
Flash fire off frame and eagers earth the end

It aims. A flame, framed, glows and glories glass;
Its features fleshed and forged score name though worm
Eats mortal trash. But we, our locks and limbs,

And all else sweet and strange, the world’s wild-blaze
Consumes; and diamonds should be what they are,
If not, are scorched and scratched, are left for ash.

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