The sight of fireflies on a June night
while watering the garden and
I am transported back to a yard
full of trees, on a hill in eastern
Kentucky.
Somewhere a whip poor will 
remembers my call.

From the house I can hear my
father still working, hammering
one last board before stopping for
the night.

I am safe among the trees as their
shadows fade into dusk. I can find
my way in the dark, capturing the
illusive luminous insects carefully
in a Mason jar.

I will fall asleep to their pulsating
lights, and they will be given 
freedom by the same hands that
weilded the hammer and
kissed me goodnight.

KW
6/22/2022

Milkweek, Columbine, 
Butterfly Bush and Dahlia –
I am inviting you Monarch 
and Honey Bee, Bumble Bee
and Swallowtail.
Come dine in my garden,
I welcome your appetites.

KW
6/23/2022