the last years of age and pain

and all at once i heard a great rush of beating wings that could only belong to a flock of starlings. a murmuration of hundreds if not more. but when my eyes lifted skyward, i saw no dark churning cloud. no funnel of flapping pinions, gleaming with the light of a thousand bright beady eyes. no mesmerizing swarm synchronized to the pulse of the earth's more mysterious rhythms.

i saw only a frantic dragonfly, trapped in a small white globe of artificial light. too large to slip through the orb's small mouth, too weak to break through the rounded glass walls. a fragile creature, all natural graces abandoned. a blur of desperation and electric blue noisily ricocheting against its confines with ungainly panic and fear.

i watched absorbed, and wondered just how he got inside at all and if he knew for certain he would die there.