Flickr Creative Commons Photo by davedehetre |
BY BRAD LEITHAUSER
Sky yet violet,
shadows collecting
under the trees
and first stars wan
as night birches, the fireflies
begin: from the first,
the night belongs
to them.
Darkness brightens
them: from our screened porch
we watch their blinkings
sharpen: three, four of them
lighten nightfall of all
solemnity; ten or twelve
and the eyes are led
endlessly astray;
and in deeper night
it’s twenty, fifty, more—a number
beyond simple reckoning—
and still they keep
coming.
shadows collecting
under the trees
and first stars wan
as night birches, the fireflies
begin: from the first,
the night belongs
to them.
Darkness brightens
them: from our screened porch
we watch their blinkings
sharpen: three, four of them
lighten nightfall of all
solemnity; ten or twelve
and the eyes are led
endlessly astray;
and in deeper night
it’s twenty, fifty, more—a number
beyond simple reckoning—
and still they keep
coming.
I didn't experience fireflies until I grew up and moved to Ohio. It's too dry for them back home. I would have loved to have met them as a child.
It's magical the way the light goes out of the summer sky and becomes condensed in those small green flashing lights that lift up out of the grass. They keep us grounded in the mystery that exists before our very eyes. Everyday magic. Everyday mystery. All we have to do is pay attention; it's there all the time.
Carol has the round up this week at Carol's Corner, and she's also got a poem about paying attention to the ordinary beauty of the world.
The Poetry Friday Roundup Schedule for July-December is complete! Kidlitosphere Yahoo group members, I added a file with the html code for the schedule so you can put it in your sidebar if you so choose. If you aren't a member and would like the code, email me through our blog email and I'll send it to you! Thanks, everyone!!