James Scannell McCormick
Jay in Dragonflies
How did they know to come, little love, know to
Hover in your yard, Klimt-gold in first September? How
Did they—subtle-winged as your caught breath, clever-
Bodied as the slim fingers flared from your
Poised hands—know to find you? Light as finger-bones, they drowse
And whir above long spoiled iris, half-wild climber rose,
Toppling stonecrop. You, newly seven, hold
At the lawn's browned edge, at air's stilled
Edge, catch in your soft-browed eyes each beating creature,
Thrumming, afloat. Your heart, like them, darts, thrums—four
Times, maybe—then you throw yourself among them, stand
In wing-quick light. They throng you, kind to kind.
—for my nephew
James Scannell McCormick holds a doctorate in creative writing-poetry from Western Michigan University. His works have appeared Unsplendid, Cave Wall, and Verse Wisconsin. His poem "Lot (Hermes in Tulips)" was nominated for a 2008 Pushcart Prize; his poem "Trouble" was nominated for a 2009 Pushcart Prize. He currently lives and teaches in Rochester, Minnesota.