While dangling from a ledge twelve stories high
(not unlike that scene in Vertigo),
you hear a buzzing sound—a dragonfly?
Louder and louder it rises from below—
a flying car. As it hovers just behind you,
you’re snatched and yanked inside. How did it find you?
Before you think a thing, “Hi Fred!” A voice
you haven’t heard in years: your baby bro!
“I’ll drive you home. Mum, dad and Mary Jo
have missed you. Or we’ll get a drink. Your choice.”
“But Bob,” you say, “our parents are in heaven!”
The buzzing noises vanish from your ears
as you fall faster past floor eight, past seven,
past six—past all your seconds, minutes, years.
Form: Stefanile Triadic Sonnet
(Co-winner of Competition 247 in The Oldie, and appeared in the magazine.)