Daily Diary, Day 664: I looked for a poem about summer, now that those of us in the northern hemisphere have passed the summer equinox.
DRAGON FLY
The half life of boyhood ignorance
walked with me
alone
on the bottom of Blackburn's farm
beyond the working noise of long belts
and clanking combines
and the sweating, swearing talk of men.
There
under a weight of silence and hotness
I fished
in a culvert hole,
in a sunshine world of little sounds
of drones and clicks
and liquid ripples at my city feet.
And at my shoulder
on the railing of my bridge
another smaller world
in which
two slim opal
dragonflies
embrace
upon the hot dry beam,
arched
in supple measured turns
of rest and tension.
I turned away,
afraid to watch this act
I did not understand,
on the hot solitary boards and rails
of a bridge I had not crossed.
––Joseph Locke
Beautiful. Thank you.