Tag Archives: fireflies

The Present

The Present

Last day of May, first night of fireflies.
All the details of the day a blur and flicker.

Try to catch one and you’ll miss the all of it.
Look up and the leaves have turned black.

The sky pale as a wet cloth absorbs their dark.
The bat caroms off air with a voice we can’t hear

And at ground level the day stays a little longer
All that little lightning and no thunder.

Last Poem of Spring

photo

Last Poem of Spring

Boxing up books. It is almost summer.
So many different flowers are packed in

the small flower garden. Gin and tonic
in a jar with ice, as light leaks away.

There are the dead, the lost,
the memories floating in patterns

like fireflies, their season starting
with a wild inland storm, mountains

disappearing behind the gray wall

Early Summer, Cape Cod

Early Summer, Cape Cod

To the world we go, extinguishing and compelled.
Early summer evening. Through a knot of fireflies

A few stars showing. To the world
an evening of fireflies and an epoch of stars

are the same, just what I see, no difference.
I will remember this firefly and this evening

as they travel at light’s speed into a past
beyond existence at the same speed a star’s memory

travels into the future to meet this evening,
this view. To the world depth starts to go

its own way towards deterioration and someone
determines it’s time to start counting the stars.