Old Cast Net

The last orange moments of the day
Catch rides on the backs of dragonflies
To menace my path with their fleeting shadows.

“Chirra chirra” sings the Frog King
Hypnotically from the long grass stems,
“Won't you rest? Won't you rest?”

But the woodpecker drums in the distant wood,
Soft and steady, pull me forth
And add my heart to their steady beat.

How many summers ago did we crouch here
Along this bank, jeans rolled to our knees,
Tying rocks on strings to weigh down an old cast-net?

It is so late and surely time now to rest
When the dragonflies span their wings across the world,
Ferrying the last day gems over the horizon

Like an ancient viking ship, alight to Valhalla,
Steered by the noble and the dear
Where we dare not follow.


I crouch along the marshy bank, pocketing wet rocks
That shine like gems, my jeans rolled to the knees
For wading, for following, my friend.

“Chirra chirra” sings the Frog King
Gently from the long grass stems waving beside me
And the cool waters, soft and steady... pull me forth.