Is the Best Defense Grace under Fire?

A basso snarl and rumble.
It is the graceless note,
a Doppler symphony of rude
rising and falling noise, from diminuendo to death.
out of place and time,
out of any bounds of nature.

Another helicopter,
monstrous green cliché of dragonfly,
stripped of all shine, all glow, all colors of joy,
and any disruption of soul—
for if a dragonfly flies soulless, what does not?—
interrupts.

The television flicks back on inside my head.
It makes itself heard, felt:
throbs its fearful threats of dire security.
But still, the sound from the garden fountain—
quieter, softer, more nearly pure—
outplays the nattering of the television mind.

More helicopters.
Our desert garden enters the dank hyper-oxygenated
carboniferous age of the original dragonfly,
the demon-fly of primal jungle,
soggy and explosive at one time,
Foggy Bottom on napalm injections.

Helicopters fumble over us more
often these days than before.
Their peace roars to signal at me
the vague and airy perils
they would protect me from
to the near-end of my days.

Richard Fenton Sederstrom is the writer of six books, including Eumaeus Tends, and Selenity Book Four. His new book Sorgmantel, follows a view of Lucretius, but employs time, the predicate of physics, into a search for what can be imagined out of the possible and impossible. It can be read, perhaps, as an elegy for generations whose existence humankind is threatening, including humankind. Sederstrom was raised and lives in the Sonoran Desert of Arizona and the North Woods of Minnesota. Read other articles by Richard Fenton.