They built him and called him Newport Tower.
He used to be a windmill in the seventeenth century.
God of the wind,
or history itself perhaps-
That was before the wind took him down, wore him out
But still he kept his loyalty to the small town, keeping to the town square.
As he aged, the town built a large gate around him,
seven feet high too high for man,
made of black metal and allowing him to be his own widower,
Only the dragonflies were allowed through,
brimming in bless within the air underneath the stones,
Without knowing names, only noting the shade,
did they consider their small country
court of the insect queen, royalty of Newport naturalism
because only somewhere underneath the old windmill
and the ground, were they real,
Haolun Xu is 24 years old and was born in Nanning, China. He immigrated to the United States in 1999. He was raised in central New Jersey and is currently studying Political Science and English at Rutgers University. Transitioning from a background in journalism and activism, he spends his time between writing poetry and the local seashore.