Lyman and the Dragonfly

The sky, black as oil spill,
and stars, well, like butts
carelessly tossed and Mars
still lit burns due south,
igniting it all. My dog’s
gone renegade, hounding
empty porches and a yellow
cat stretches out in the gutter
in the wool of brown-shaved grass.
A barn owl hears it all and hollers.

I wait in the driveway: Gemini.
I must rename them — Dragonfly —

Rename them all while I wait:
Rattler and Goat, Sidewise Slim
and Gran’ in her rocker, Powerline
Pole topping the ash tree,
Torquewrench and soon
that old coot, Lyman,
holding forth his lunker pike,
giddy for a snap, has pliers
hanging from his belt
in a brown leather pouch.

Image: Javier Esteban on Unsplash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: