Siblings gather on the front porch steps,
Engage in small talk and soft laughter.
A crimson sunset fades into dusk.
Someone says, “Sunny day tomorrow.”
A bugle sounds taps
From the direction of Cheever’s Woods.
A World War I veteran pays respects
To his fallen comrades.
Crickets, peepers and tadpoles suffuse the air
In a combined chorus.
A whip-poor-will calls from a nearby tree.
Its mate cries back from afar.
A captured firefly passes through cupped hands,
Faintly illuminating our faces.
We wonder how bats, flitting by,
Home in on night-flying insects.
Radar hadn't been invented yet.
So many stars -
How could you tell which one
Would come through on our wishes?
-e. hujsak
No comments:
Post a Comment