it's summer in alaska
and i'm at a gas station
staring thru clear haze fumes
at a dead dragonfly
with wings still life beautiful
and wet-looking
cartwheeling stiffly
in the wind
across
hot rainbow greased pavement.
rolling over gravel
it came to rest against my foot
syncopated by the full click
click
of the gashandle
this moment
is as mesmerising
as the violence
of a derailing train.