In the summer, it’s so easy to take for granted all of the sunny days
when dragonflies and damselflies were collected in a frenzied haze
when the geek vest seemed almost too hot to don
as I ran with my net along the lawn
But in the winter, my teeth chatter in the collection room
as I attempt to sort the odes in their cold unit tray tomb
the brittleness of the wings catches me off guard
as I take one out of its triangle and put it on a card
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