Poetry Friday: Fireflies (Poetry Friday Roundup is Here This Week!)

Hello friends! I am happy to be hosting Poetry Friday this week. I am in the United States at the moment, on summer break from my usual home in Kampala, Uganda, so our usual time zone issues do not apply. I'm on Eastern Standard Time, and in the land of fast internet, and I'm not teaching, so your head may spin with the speed at which I will round up your contributions (the old-fashioned way)! Leave your link in the comments. Comment moderation is enabled so you won't see your comment immediately.

 

It looks as though I have participated in Poetry Friday only twelve times this school year. I haven't written many poems this year, either, or even read all that many. My focus these days is slightly different because I'm not teaching English any more, but I still love the opportunity to be immersed in poetry. The news may be all bad, all the time, but there are still beautiful words, like fireflies in a jar, giving out some light. For today's roundup, I decided to focus on fireflies, a perfect metaphor for ephemeral beauty. Here are some poems about them.

 

Fireflies

by Marilyn Kallet

 

In the dry summer field at nightfall,

fireflies rise like sparks.

Imagine the presence of ghosts 

flickering, the ghosts of  young friends, 

your father nearest in the distance.

This time they carry no sorrow,

no remorse, their presence is so light.

Childhood comes to you,

memories of your street in lamplight,

holding those last moments before bed,

capturing lightning-bugs,

with a blossom of the hand

letting them go. Lightness returns,

an airy motion over the ground

you remember from Ring Around the Rosie.

If you stay, the fireflies become fireflies

again, not part of your stories,

as unaware of you as sleep, being

beautiful and quiet all around you.  

Fireflies in the Garden

by Robert Frost

 

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies;

And here on earth come emulating flies, 

That though they never equal stars in size,

(And they were never really stars at heart)

Achieve at times a very star-like start.

Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

 

 

What do you have to share this week?

 

Jane was inspired by a ferry boat to write some haiku. (She also has a book coming out!)

 

Robyn is celebrating Pride Month with rainbows and a literary auction. 

 

Rose is honoring the memory of Katey Howes with a review of her new book and a short poem inspired by it.

 

Michelle is focusing on defending democracy and on nature. She shares a poem and a photo with us.

 

Jama is sharing a Richard Jones poem just right for Father's Day, plus some recipes for madeleines.

 

Mary Lee has written a "Chant of a June Garden," full of plant goodness.

 

Laura has a poem this week about a snail, from Rings of Heartwood, a new book for kids by Molly Beth Griffith.

 

Marcie has a post full of treasures, including her list of the "Art of Summering." 

 

Linda's hosting a Clunker Exchange today. Here are the instructions: 1) Choose a line from the list, which you can change however you want, and "leave a clunker line of your own as exchange in the comments."

 

Matt has an important poem that he wrote about his college best friend. 

 

Carol has good words about the reality that springtime can be a time of sadness. 

 

Tabatha, like so many of us, is thinking of immigration and democracy.

 

Irene has the next installment of ArtSpeak: PICASSO, a poem called "Self-Portrait as Don Quixote." 

 

Patricia shares an interview with her sister, poet Kathy Pon, about Pon's new chapbook.

 

Sarah Grace is thinking about fires both literal and figurative, and she also has a way to download a pdf copy of her chapbook of protest poetry, or even get hard copies. 

 

Jone has a link to a poem written by a friend who recently passed away, and she's also discovered a new Irish poet. 

 

Carol just got back from Yosemite, and found some poems about it from 1917!

 

Margaret has a book coming out too, and hers is a biography of Emma Wakefield Paillet. She shares a praise poem about Paillet. 

 

Diane is in with some quiet time and a letter to a dream.