I’ll Never Make a Covenant With The Sky
The dragonfly was the progeny of starlight and rain.
After a range of heavy storms,
when ice was falling down in swarms,
the dragonfly was forlorn and its wings were torn.
„I’ll never make a covenant again with you, sky”,
cried the soaking, blown out dragonfly.
Dried itself under the smoking sun,
and put its tongue out like a fire-gun.
Made itself cheap by fraternizing with
the dirt and pond, it danced along as a kith.
The progeny of starlight and rain
never missed the cold and proud firmament again.