Swimming, we came upon the floating
emerald. a dragonfly. On its back,
jointed legs in air, its body struggled.
Intending rescue, I scooped it up,
conveyed it aloft in one hand, while
paddling with the other. Life appeared
to persist in the green upper parts,
peacock-blue abdomen, deep garnet
of the long, convulsive tail. Only 
when we’d clambered ashore to set
it on a sun-warmed rock did we notice
the head was missing. Poor flier! Feet still
twitched for purchase on my wet palm, tail
curled reflexively, and transparent
yellow wings feebly trembled.
I laid it back on the water, then
looked up at the cornflower sky over-
arching the river at the heart of summer,
saw the mercy in your eyes and knew
we love each other also for a kindness
that is in us but does not come out from us,
a light we do not see behind our light.