The Wrath of Love....

It's five o'clock. Midgit cars zig~zag through the traffic train, dodging 18 wheelers. A mid~life crisis hovers next to me, engine idling, vinyl topped dream come true, naked to the sky. He winks when I notice him. A southern pick~up truck revs his engine. Any minute he's gonna climb over my hatch~back and ride right over me. I know it.

I turn the radio up. Dig to the bottom of my purse and find the last piece of gum. Smack it. Smoke another cigarette. Hang my left arm out the window and pretend I'm a seagull.....
flying.....

And there, in the pretend sky, I fall to my knees. I should have scooped him up. The dragonfly on the sidewalk. I touched him. And he hummed. Fluttered his wings....just a little. I scooched him. Just a little. And he hummed in pain. I fetched a paper towel and a red cup and tried to pick him up, and I swear he sang to me....in sad operatic wails. And then I left him there. Wings fluttering in the breeze. Smack in the middle of the sidewalk where some busybody in the morning will kick him with their "I'm late, I'm late for a very important date" high heels. Left him there, with his wings fluttering from the "It's a cold snap" breeze. Because I didn't have the nerve to cause him anymore pain. To move him to the safety of the nondescript cool mulch where he could have died in peace.

And now,
frozen in the five o'clock gridlock,
I realize....
I should have just stayed with him....
Plopped down on the sidewalk and listened to the heartbeat of his wings...
Because
even if he wouldn't let me touch him...

He touched me....

The last hello.....

It's just a driveway....fifty feet of fifty year old gravel, limestone, river rocks lining the lane. Flattened pennies, heads down, are crunched into the mix, a poor man's coquina. There are no signs here. "Keep out" or "welcome" either. It's not one-way only. You're free to come and go. And welcome is a given....

But there comes a time.

I opened the window, the kiss of freedom, planted like a forever tattoo on his cheek, tracing-paper thin, and should have known......

He'd be back. Crunching the gravel....

Breaking up is hard to, letting go is harder.....

And I don't believe in the last dance, the last kiss, the last good-bye.....but rather the good film, the best movie ever, snapped, broken in the middle of the reel, and the ending never known, but imagined in everyway. And the story frozen. Just so and perfect. Not tainted by cliche's and punchlines. Destroyed by the very act of salvaging. And I told him so....

There at the river. Skinny legs dangling over the side of the makeshift embankment. Blue eyes and brown eyes together in the quiet, dragonflies dancing on the muddy water the only sound. And we smiled. At the enchanted ballet they played for us. Periwinkle and lavender girls, fluttering by in transluscent petticoats, shimmery sugary tu-tus, buzzing, splashing, on the rheumy dancefloor. They circled above us, waltz of the flowers, a halo of dragonflies.....and followed us to the car. I paused, with the door open, before climbing into the seat, as they passed in a pastel parade, and waited for their kiss....

The engine, as throaty and scratchy as our left over voices from the night before, took over the silence. Engulfed it. And we drove here, to the painted house, to the poor man's driveway where the engine idled, hovered, hot breath on the miles beneath us.

"Say the words" I whispered....climbing out , unfolding.

I watched him through the dusky swirls of lime, as he backed out. First gear. Almost second.
Right hands to our own lips,
the kiss...
right hands raised to the sky,
stretching,
fingers in a V.........

peace~love
we whispered to the wind....

Caged

I barely recognized you...
there with dangling legs,
darting mud-puddle eyes
flickering like a broken reel of film.

I watched as
you shifted
hummed
Flitted back and forth....
A dragonfly caught in a mayonnaise jar.

God, how you wanted out.

Your wings beat furiously at
the invisible cage -
Raging at the capture.

I would have smiled
If I
hadn't forgotten to breathe