Last week I saw my first fireflies of the season.  In honor of those early ones and of those  yet to come this summer, I post here Mary Oliver’s lovely poem “Fireflies”–April Moore

      by Mary Oliver

At Blackwater
are not even a dime a dozen–
they are free,

and each floats and turns
among the branches of the oaks
and the swamp azaleas
looking for another

as, who doesn’t?
Oh, blessings
on the intimacy
inside fruition,

be it foxes
or the fireflies
or the dampness inside the petals
of a thousand flowers.

Though Eden is lost
its loveliness
remains in the heart
and the imagination;

he would take her
in a boat
over the dark water;
she would take him

to an island she knows
where the blue flag grows wild
and the grass is deep,
where the birds

perch together,
feather to feather,
on the bough.
And the fireflies,

blinking their little lights,
hurry toward one another.
And the world continues,
God willing.

4 Responses to “Fireflies”

  1. Elizabeth Cottrell Says:

    Oh, April, what a beautiful poem. I’ve only recently discovered Mary Oliver and got a lovely book of her poems from my daughter for my birthday.

    Fireflies have so much wonderful imagery and, for me, also bring back happy memories of childhood and summers past.


  2. Diane Artz Furlong Says:

    Dear, dear creatures they are. Could you possibly have a bad memory of a firefly? Thanks for the Mary Oliver poem. She is a favorite.

    Here is a link to something fantastic I found today.

    I would love to see this.

  3. Gail Says:

    April…I love this. Thank you.

  4. April Says:

    Fascinating info about this species of firefly, Diane. I’ve never heard of fireflies synchronizing their flashes!

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