I know

yes, I know
where fireflies enflame
shadow-circled silver fields,
I’ve seen the trembling grain shiver
under golden-swollen
chalk-dust moons.
I’ve heard the frogs and nightbirds
thrustle, throaty,
under verdant-arching trees;
felt the ink-black breeze
like a dark river,
slipping smoothly
between bending branches—
I’ve watched far-flung stars
of the furthest skies
bend low to brush
with tender fingertip
the gray-drowsing earth,
over plains where stillness draws
the velvet twilight
over the sleep-sweet lids
and dew-kissed cheeks
of summer hills.
yes, I know these things.

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4 thoughts on “I know

    1. no specific place–I was just remembering when I was kid, before my neighborhood got built up and I had the run of the woods, fields, and creeks. it feels odd to look at a suburb and remember the deer paths that used to run through it, see driveways where we used to build forts and hide outs.

  1. Beautifully done! Love the selection of words, the wonderful images this poem conjures, and the hint of nostalgia.

  2. This is a really beautiful poem. Love some of your uses of color, like ink-black breeze. It’s unexpected and yet makes for a beautiful image.

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