They Watch Us

They Watch Us

Robotic turns, swiveled moves and

Wings flexed in the moving air,

Black features immune to the midday sun:

They watch us. Now there are two,

Brother dragonflies, striped tails

Half as long as my little finger,

Perching suddenly on the very end

Of branches seared by summer or blight.

More patiently than I can bear the

Too-subtle breeze, but I watch them, too.

Just try to match that patience.

One is gone when I look again.

Now both are gone. I saw one fly.

The summertime sun is lazy on the leaves.

It has a near-eternity to shine today.

Now one comes back to the same limb perch.

He may not see me watch some more,

But he probably does. Those two eyes are

Bigger than his head.

Subtle eyes. Black eyes. Ancient yet new.

Watching is old as sunshine to see by.

(7/11/10)