Encore
The thief sets foot at my door, he runs and skips on the front lawn. A paper dragon curls in the corner. A rubber ball lies buried in tall grass. Clouds race in blue sky over the worn fence. A spectral being chases the horizon over an infinite, rolling landscape. You sprint ahead. Play games, while in the spectroscope of your mind making movies. Now the clock shifts and ticks, the indoors here eerily calm. Yet your world is grand as a vast cartouche full of puffing dragon clouds.
Heather Sager lives in Illinois, USA, where she writes poetry and fiction. Most recently, her work has appeared in Poetry Pacific, The Bluebird Word, Setu, morphrog, Magma, Otoliths, The Fabulist, Highland Park Poetry’s Odes anthology, and more wonderful places.
Flight of the dragonfly 