The blunt clicks of landed dragonflies
a puzzle of a descending squirrel
bare branches of a dying tree.
When I move,
they move.
One copper fly upon my hand.
Chittering louder
as I draw closer.
Truck revving
Roadster revving
in machined competition.
Why this copper
on this stump.
Is it dead?
Why these women
a caress of grass.
Is demand real?
As insistent
as the cries
of this
Western wood pewee
Weee-wee-wee-ing.
Echo of a killdeer.
Please don’t
Please don’t
make me
kill you,
dear.