The Fear of Being Left Behind

You know so well
that fear of being left behind,
unseen.
Share your stories of abandonment
and I will tell you mine.
But do you remember the day of the dragonflies?
The thick pack heading south en masse,
electrified orange and red,
moving like helicopters
up down forward back sideways
seemingly all at once
while still making their way down the beach?
Can you still see the way their wings flashed like
beaters, here, and then gone, like
those steel mixer blades
covered thick with chocolate
and our mother’s birthday love,
how, without admonition,
she let us both, together,
run our fingers trustingly
along the could-be-sharp edges,
as she retired to her room?

You call to you the truth that no one survives,
that everyone you love will leave,
you wrap yourself in the surety of your isolation and your need,
but have you forgotten that constant dragonfly stream
how first you feared, then loved their presence?
The outlaw one who landed on your shirt,
stayed for the rest of the walk
wingtips glittering in the sun?