Dedicated to my 3A’s
until dragonfly’s touch erupts
in ripples of laughter
while lily pads lie
demurring in the heat
and the heron’s expert landing,
and the dogs in the mud,
and the hint of life beneath the surface.
i thought i heard our music:
the beginning part with the child’s voice screaming “fire!”
but it was some other rustling wind song
beating furiously, my heart,
into a wide new shape.
you’ve touched every part of me
and i miss seeing you dance.