sitting in a borrowed boat,
my brother paddling across the dimpled river
lost in thought.
floated around us;
and moving in the air
with great precision.
I don’t know what it was about them
that made me feel fear
when they gently grazed my fingertips
with their slender wings.
so many summers later,
I watch them
with different eyes.
They seem different,
with their quiet elegance,
play as they
drift above the water,
their silvery-blue wings catching the light.
They seem enchanted by their own magic,
glide from one moment to the next,
unconcerned about impermanence.
Water and light
belongs to them
-through all the hours of their brief eternity.