A Firefly on The Railing

They light up the trees and in the trunks
I see inscribed, “You will never be a child again.” And in the leaves, “Your children will never be small again.”

Now, instead of catching them and putting them in jars to watch them closely during story time, we watch them from distances.  One is crossing the porch railing on his tiny legs. Before he turns back to light, I say a quiet farewell to no one in particular. 


Jack’s river 7

Before I open my eyes :
A Cottonmouth in the river’s rise
a child is singing for the forbidden thing
it does not know what wreckage brings.

Mimosa sitting  with the sleepy dusk
an eloquent pink humid musk
Summer shows a blushing breast
before it forms the void of eternal rest

Frogs here laugh at the dying sun
As if it isn’t the only one
I am alone on my worthy rock
In the summers root,  a hollow stone.