it’s a shortcut for me
when I’m riding my bicycle to the city,
to take a short bit of the pathway
which /wīnd/s itself through:
the cemetery;
and on this one, grand occasion —
a horde of black Dragonflies were flying,
en masse, all about it;
it didn’t mean anything, and
I’m not going to make it mean anything —
it wasn’t a symbol of the deads’ departure from,
and through, the living world, and,
it wasn’t an omen,
either;
what it was, was
Dragonflies in the cemetery:
but it was also a moment of
clarity to me — and these moments,
I find, are happening
more often.
a father and daughter
are eating green Apples, on:
a stone bench
in the city, speaking,
no words.
Leonard Zawadski is a poet currently residing in Chicago, IL. He has studied the art of poetry writing at the University of Iowa, Northwestern University, and the Newberry Library.
