Chorus frogs calling like nanny-goats
in the Alabama darkness.
Crickets chirping, bull-frogs
lobbing their solos into the
warm night air.
Along the blind path
from the front door
to the edge of the woods,
fireflies call out
in silent bursts of light:
Follow me! Here! Here! No,
here!
Sudden glimmers, like shooting stars,
above the shadowy pines.
Proof positive, from deep in the forest,
of fairies.
Semiphores flashing a message
that only dazzles me,
desperate to learn
the secret language
of darkness and frogs
and fireflies.
--Barbara Quick
