Dragonfly

There's a droning alarm
that sinks into the ennui
that perch on every grass,
every exposed skin
browning prematurely

It beats its paper wings
against the languid gust
and sporadic breeze
faster than the afternoon,
slower than a waxing moon

It skip points and niceties
like a pristine rivet
in this sea of brown and gray
drowning quintessence
and quelling fervors

It rovers around a cattail,
circumnavigated the hill of hay,
its metallic sheen flailing
to paint the rising lethargy
and engulfing into synergy

When shifting eyes
is a sound waste of energy,
and chasing time
is only a nurtured malady
a dragonfly beats a separate wind

But where is you corrosive flame?
In this pillaged summer
our souls linger elsewhere
searching for the sound of keys
with dragonfly-contingency

Anywhere is away but here.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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