Fred Aiken Writing

there’s a dragonfly that watches me jump rope,
and i think the dragonfly is judging me,
laughing at my jump rope technique,
and how much it looks like i’m struggling
to find a rhythm in jumping rope,
though i think i might give up the exercise,
because the dragonfly doesn’t seem to want to give me any advice,
but instead floats off to the side,
listless, careless, fruitless, wandering through my backyard
without a care in the world,
while i can’t jump over one damn rope