At first glance, only shadows Only wisps of black knitted into The patchwork quilt of springy turf Where magic warms the notes of moon’s music, Light playing upon scruffy T-shirt and shorts, Hair swirling, legs Twirling, Hoping to gather treasure in her net Then out of dark and fresh-lain night: A tiny little bead of light Up, up swoops the net with arms raised high And the balls of bare feet jump to meet The moon And lo, the little flickerin’ thing Is caught up in the net And she reaches balled fist in eagerly, Band-Aids patching up hurts of yesterday, And tiny, warty fingers fix themselves round their catch, But, try as she will to cut off its light, Clasping both hands round the firefly, She cannot kill the hope of the creature That has been caught before, And the giggles, the attempts to close in the beams of yellow Only amuse the moon For what would parents know of such important matters? And as she releases the firefly’s light It sails back off into the night. Katie Ferman, 13Three Lakes, Wisconsin
Poetry-Nighttime
Night in the Woods
Smoke rising Into the dark sky Crickets chirp And a twig snaps Warm air presses against me And a cold wind Blows behind my back The fire crackles And Mother laughs As my marshmallow Blows up in flames Then it is bedtime Crawl into the tent The air is cold But inside the sleeping bag It is warm The glow of the fire Shines through the tent As a stick cracks And I drift asleep Amanda Johnson,13Hanover, Pennsylvania
Empty Spotlight
Does anything exist at this hour, when my footsteps crash, and my breathing screams? When every slight movement I make, Feels like a leap? When I’m all alone, my house is quiet. Outside the streetlights blur, and twist themselves into shapes that spotlight on the patch of gravel, that’s empty No one is there, to stand in that spotlight, and listen to the applause, of the grass, blowing in the wind. And I am inside, looking out, at an empty place, that I wish were mine. Cora W. Bucher,13Missoula, Montana
