No Longer Ordinary

If only dragonflies

catered soot-soiled lungs,

and with its grilling rib cages,

broiled enough to give way to

singeing orange and white-hot blue flares.

Watch it then exploit all elements-

Basket-catching the creatures slowly meandering

just below the water’s lapping, fluid cap,

Ensnaring predacious critters hidden

amidst the foliage-infested land,

by perfectly calculated velocity,

And consuming its prey now by flame,

ferociously blasting bursts of

agonizing, zesty combustion.

If only dragonflies

catered soot-soiled lungs,

it could then finally

barbeque its mosquito dinner-

cook out the bloody rare

in one steady, sweltering puff.

Fireflies would become a forgotten keepsake

no longer kept in observatory mason jars.

Ah, but FIRE-breathing dragonflies-

Children will need to be

a little more precarious

when attempting to jar

just one.