dragonfly love

she's a like a dragonfly, he said. she never lands. she makes love in the air but she never lands.

we sat in the garden on a perfect fall afternoon, leaves from the grapevine stunning shades of gold over our heads, talking about love lost and found. our friends inside were laughing over eggbake and mountains of fruit, hot coffee and bloody marys. salad with apples and walnuts, bread with butter and brie.

these people, my friends, we have all been dragonflies at one point or another. what an odd start we had in that dark little theater with the garage floors and spooky wiring. some of best moments of all our lives were spent under those lights, surprising the audience as much as we surprised each other and ourselves.

through these years we've each taken off and landed, sometimes posing in mid air to make love or stop short for whatever life had to teach us in that select moment of hovering.

today we hovered around kevin's table and ate chocolate cake and pumpkin pie, catching up on babies born and the ones soon due, on how the surgery went and what the score was. and we checked out the new guy, too.

for this afternoon we all hovered, knowing if we haven't landed yet,

we will soon.