In an orchestra streaking orange,
black jet with white tips,
metallic blue, in seemingly random
patterns, on staccato wings
they play silently
to tittering birds and the rhythm 
of water’s gentle applause.
Trees stand along the river
in tall columns
as in a ballroom
dancing with dragonflies
swooping to the cool, 
mirrored surface, 
willing to touch
down, to pluck
their heart’s desire
from among the floating mosses
and reeds stiff as wallflowers
along the edge.
Occasionally they couple
joining in flight,
a flower of fluttering petals
heavy on the air
over this still pool
on the Klamath River
off a dirt road
in the middle of nowhere.


Klamath River, California
from ‘House of the Unexpected’ (Wild Ocean Press)