Home Going: Poetry For A Season


I remember summer nights in Texas, warm enchanted nights when my brother and sister and I would hike down to the creek behind our house to collect fireflies. This poem, taken from Carolyn Weber’s Home Going: Poetry For A Season, brings back the magic of  those nights.


by Carolyn Weber

On the night we move in
we sit in a row
on the couch
beads on a prayer chain
faces pressed against glass,
all awe, framed.
Outside, countless points of living light
dot the darkening grass.
Screen door screeches then slams
as we race outside to join the twinkling dance.
Bare feet meet cool grass,
the heat retreating with the day.
Children in night shirts,
me, in my tattered robe;
all of us, sorely underdressed
for such festivity.

What are we doing here?

Unleashed uncare wins out,
along with weariness lifted, doubts appeased.
After a full day of unpacking,
of worries and obstacles,
of sweat and second thoughts,
only now the revelation:
Joy unlimited in the connecting of dots …
The dance of living light.

“Fireflies” is reprinted here with the permission of Carolyn Weber. To find out more about Home Going, please visit Goodreads.

Rick Nau1 Comment