Those Fireflies, for Instance
. . . Night lurches, repeats itself,
Sees double in our little
Glassed-in terrace garden.
Winds down, as fog calms the city
Spun from the blue smoke
Running circles around us. . .
Close one eye and think:
Those fireflies, for instance,
Winking at us as they luxuriate
In the leaves of our tiny elastic ash,
Their cool light calls back bright day
As happily as they reflect the constellations
Turning beyond the blue dome, motionless, above us.
"Those Fireflies, for Instance" originally appeared in Ploughshares 5/2