I biked this week on a sunny day,
A dragonfly joined me on the way.
Green and clear and swift it flew,
A gust came up and off, it blew.
It was a joy to see the way it darted,
A moment passed and it departed.
But we were both at risk as cars roared by,
I hope we don’t get hit and die.
This one was inspired by a true story. Yesterday morning as I biked to
my sister’s commencement ceremony, a large green dragonfly caught up
suddenly and flew next to me for a moment or two before darting off.
It may have been sizing me up as a potential mate or prey. Then, it
darted off again. I thought, what a wonderful thing that this ancient
arthropod can persist in the city. They have survived in essentially
the same form since the Carboniferous period (though they were then
much bigger). And what a joy to bike side by side with it for just a
moment. Then I thought about the shitty road which threatened to slice
my tires open, and about the cars screaming by which could easily kill
me or the dragonfly. And it seemed we were both in the same situation:
it was a beautiful day to be a biker or a predatory dragonfly, and yet
it was such a high-risk experience. I think I need to add two more
lines expressing the transience of the dragonfly’s presence.
In other news, I went to the Loring Park gay pride festival yesterday
with my little sister. It was pretty gay. I had some really good
cheese curds, and I got some free lube.
~Isaac
Update: I added those two lines that were lacking, and now I am a little more satisfied with the poem.
pseudoisaac 