Often in June after dinner I walk up the driveway to see more sky. I walk to the edge of the road and admire a favorite tree and try to catch the sunset and perhaps a few fireflies. Today it’s smoky though not as smoky as it is north of us. Evidence of distance is magnified by the smoke. Back in the garden I have cut the scapes on this years scant garlic. Sometimes I feel like the exuberant loops of the scapes are made up brain waves and fancy loops of garden energy.
Nights when it’s warm
and no one is watching,
I walk to the edge
of the road and stare
at all the fireflies.
I squint and pretend
they’re hallucinations,
bright made-up waves
of the brain.
I call them,
field bling.
I call them,
fancy creepies.
–Ada Limon, from Field Bling, in Bright Dead Things, Millkweed Editions, 2015