Mayfly

MAYFLY I’m shadow’s child, grown on the lake, by women on their own. The reedy cattails, and brown mud pots, occupy my time. I’m taller now, and skinny too, like some noxious weed. And in a minute, with one frail breath, I’m a woman too. I’m golden new, in nodes of light, my love is truly found! Our baby girl, is born to us, then left for her own love. I’ve slipped between the sun and moon, I’ve suddenly grown old. Getting small, moving slow, like some darling sloth. “But I just got here,” I yell, to an empty brightened room. “I want... a Do Over!” Who hears but the lamps, as they blink back in shock, and the light on the wall, is their last for the day. The laugh from a Mayfly, is cruel for the count, by shadow, by weed, by wrinkled old sloth. Last flicker, last moonlight, last tick of the clock. Deep breath, deep dream, the stardust blew out. By Edlynn Nau Written: May 5, 2017 ©April, 2019