Birdsong, dawn’s first measure,
amidst the foreboding humidity
of August and the paludal stench of time.
Dragonflies dance, unchoreographed,
through flowering reeds, not
without a purpose.
Mosquitoes dodge certain fate, insects
of lesser stature attempt
to absquatulate the hierarchy
of the food chain. Organic drama
above murky, algae-streaked waters
all but ignored, as a passive society’s sins
leech into the aquifer.
We will all fall prey to something,
death not always slow, or pretty.
©2017 j.g. lewis
Poem Kubili is an international
companionship of poets with
a common love of writing and
reading poetry. To read more of
of the group’s collected works