Random Piritorce

[temperance14]

I never did give you random words, or kigo.
How about random thoughts, as you come back to us.

If you come out the back of Dutton Hall, in late summer, in late day,
there is that lawn in half sun, half shadow from the trees. Now,
you will find dragonflies sailing over the lawn, dipping into hidden patches of water,
seeping from underground.

You won’t see them directly,
not until they turn and carve down,
and you catch the gold sunlight on their wings.


It’s the almost the end of summer, and not quite.
Everything is immortal in summer, in the day,
in the almost still, buzzing warmth of the sun.
It always felt that way as a child.

The fall and the winter are coming,
the sun sets faster, the morning sun is chill.
It’s foreboding—but intriguing. It’s about the mysteries
found in the dark and the cold. It’s about eternity.

It’s the equinox—crossroads and twilight, warmth to cold, night to day.
Dreams to choices. Immortality to eternity.
It’s leaving the sidewalk, and marking a new path through the cool grass.

It’s cold gold light balanced and measured on a dragonfly’s back..