by Diane Fahey
Whirligig beetles, which swim on the surface of ponds, have divided eyes, one half for vision under water, the other in air.
C. O'Toole, The Encyclopaedia of Insects
Something I could do with
to analyse my dreams—
amphibious bifocals
able to hold in one gaze
subaqueous and aerial.
You need gills, though,
for some images, tracking
them through the deeps;
for others, wings—
to launch into the clear-
as-daylight obvious, else
soar in upper atmospheres,
taking the longer view.
But mostly, you skate
and zigzag on the surface—
playing, not even thinking,
when suddenly you see it,
staring you in the face:
from split-moon eyes,
recognition—half-smiling,
half-waiting; a mirror
poised between two worlds.
From:
Mayflies in amber
Last updated January 14, 2019