All the angels on TV have white feathered wings
But I don't think it really works like that.
Dragonfly wings have no feathers
Once I saved a dragonfly whose wing was stuck
to some tape on a package of flowers
But I could not save you
Your uncle said that you were one of them
As if an opiate addiction was like a cult that you decided to join
And though your father and I were no longer "us"
When I heard the news
We followed all the shallow protocol
Do you think the dragonfly was jinxed before I saved it?
As if I have some control over planetary occurrences...
All my sighs spin dragonflies around and their wings do not bleed
But ours do.
Saving is for banks.
We leave deposits of hope, love, encouragement, and trying to do no harm and leaving little to no trace.
And open arms for acceptance.
Nice. I like, "shallow protocol."ReplyDelete
How profoundly sad this poem is. Each of us make our own decisions in life yet the pain of erring is felt more by those that love us than ourselves.ReplyDelete