Waves tugging at the sand beside the broad blue of Superior, with great effort she lifted herself-- each labored step, dragging her clumsy body a bit further, beyond their reach onto the otherwise empty, windblown edge of Michigan’s Twelve-mile Beach.
Knocked off the breeze carrying her in carefree flight above its lapping waters by a long, curling tongue of this hungry lake, she’d escaped a watery death.
But, wings now heavy with droplets, she could not rise from the smooth, wet sand.
I left her to rest on a strand of beach grass beside the great lake, which boasts of many victories--having devoured so many, so great.
While her insatiable hunger goes on, I stole this dragonfly from her plate.
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