Cutrer. "Toys."

A boy is breaking mating damselflies apart.

The hair-thin legs struggle against his fingers.

Ripping mate from mate, he learns nothing

of love-making mid-air, or what brought iridescence

to descend upon his finger puckered

in pondwater. He chances to glance

through window panes of a mullioned wing,

and what does he see but a room full of toys,

soft animals he will never touch never make speak

in the singsong of his playtongue.

He will only ever have their insubstantial plush

in this memory more brittle than the wing of a dream.

It will remain an ache the world rubs as it moves him.

A piece on a board he is the world’s toy now.

Going where taken. Staying where put down.

Here a boy, there a man. Everywhere mourning

those button eyes. Eyes that were not made to see.

Cutrer, Kevin. “Toys.” The Courtship of Winds. William V. Ray, Winter 2017. Web. 11 June 2017. <https:// www. thecourt shipof winds. org/ kevin-cutrer>. © Kevin Cutrer. Used by permission. All rights reserved.