I Come From A Place of Fireflies

I came from a place of fireflies,
where men were reasonable and tall,
Where people knew me by who my grandfather was, and his, and his.
Where farmers didn’t block views with trees,
To see at a glance from the kitchen window
How the corn was doing, the soybeans.

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Tao at Dusk

Look , but be totally still.

Three dark ants navigate through
a maze of August-dried needles
without an apparent purposeful goal
to the eyes of the old woman watching.

Fireflies

It was where we found shelter,

Deep among the roots, sturdy,

And buried beneath these old floorboards.

The whippoorwills would sing us to sleep,

As the only lights that came through the,

Small framed window, were

Those from the silent calls of the fireflies.