make me think of your Indian hair by firelight.
It's like being hit in the head, these tiny stars--
this pleasant longing with a barb on its tail.
Air is a funny thing, especially at night.
Like you, it seems expansive while obscuring entire worlds.
I need wings to keep from falling, writing poems on foolscap
about you, and eyes that can't help but follow
The foxfire there-and-gone glow of lightning bugs
In July darkness.
_____
for Wednesday Muse "Night Sounds." I see now that I have written about a night sight instead and hope to be pardoned this departure from clear instruction.
Oh, "the foxfire there-and-gone glow of lightning bugs in July darkness." Just wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the gift of one of your perfect, complete-unto-itself love poems this morning--every word has the ring of truth and every word has the ring of dream. Beautiful to the mind's ear as the title creatures are to the eye.
ReplyDeleteIt does seem to obscure entire worlds doesn't it? Once again you have swept me off my feet with your poetry Shay!!! This is brilliant and absolutely gorgeous! No one can write poetry of love and longing quite like you!!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully, erotically alive!
ReplyDeleteThere and gone...sadly true of lightning bugs. And love. Beautiful. It is an honest poem. I had an odd dream last night about lightning bugs and snow. This takes me back inside my dream. "I need wings to keep from falling, writing poems on foolscap
ReplyDeleteabout you, and eyes that can't help but follow"... those lines are haunting in their intensity. Like lightning bugs in the snow.
It isn't truly a summer night without lightening bugs - the dark hair by firelight is a gorgeous comparison.
ReplyDeleteDo you need to "blogger approve" everyone? I notice that is where mine always goes...
ReplyDeleteNope, Margaret, just you and two others. Don't know why.
ReplyDeleteIn July, I saw fireflies for just the 2nd or 3rd time, and me halfway thru my 50s - and yes, they did remind me. sigh. ~
ReplyDelete