Summer Harvest
A Poem for Summertime
You learned to catch fireflies last summer
Cautiously at first, holding out a frisbee for them to land on.
I suggested you could use your own hands,
Capable of both strength and care.
Thinking of the possibility,
You instead plunged them deep inside your arm pits
Refusing to risk harming something
you also feared.
Then one night, caught in an electric storm
One landed on your elbow
uninvited.
You looked up at me like you had been wronged
And tried to shake her off, just like a son of mine might.
But she stuck.
And then you stopped.
Now your hands don’t stop harvesting the sky. What I’m Listening To:
Cleo Sol, Mother
What I’m Working On:
This Spring and Summer have been full of production on an edutainment series for teens and tweens. There have been wacky costumes, puppets, trying to make apples float in the sky, and a whole lot of prep-work. I’m grateful for talented creative partners and crew for diving in head first, going above and beyond to make this project the best it can be!