Lydia Gold

Firefly Fields

The moonlight gently slipped

In between the cracks

Of that summer night


The tires hummed along the highway

On which we were traveling

And music flowed softly out of the radio


In the front seats

My parents whispered

Of things

That I knew nothing of


My brother sat next to me

Listening to his headphones

And tapping his fingers to the rhythm of the song

That only he heard


Outside, the rolling landscape

Was just a black silhouette

Of the farms and forests it was made of


Against the darkness, I saw a glimmer of light

It was gone before I could even tell

That it had ever been there at all


But then there were more

And those little sparks began to illuminate

The unseen fields around us


My brother turned to me

“Fireflies” he said


I watched their flames ignite and extinguish

Like tiny lanterns hanging

In the country air

Lighting up the road for us

On that summer night



Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.