First Wing
Those good Wrights hardly rate
A rippled line on the temporal slate
That scribed each date,
Each fluttered fate,
Each fresh attempt to reap the wind,
Each maiden try above time’s worn sand.
For those Wright’s first flights were a simple matter
Compared to that millions year adventure.
Three hundred thirty of them, or so,
Have passed since unsteady flow
Over articulated plates did blow
Saving some sculling mite from foe below.
That proto-wing proved consternation
To pursuer of that primal insect-crustacean,
Who skipped and skimmed from jawed predation
And, therein, began evo-creation
Of Earth’s fore, and first, flying nation.
Their kind and kin still master sky.
With gauze veined wings they winds still ply.
One Paleo remnant still dominates.
With cambered four-part wing predates
And, on vibrant aerfoil, even copulates.
Dragonfly!
Earth’s first mile high,
Long sovereign of summer sky.
Anastasia Voight
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