Skip to main content
In a dream I cried out
awakened
and came out to the field.

In the field
a gentle misting rain,
frogs croaking in deepening shadows.

I hesitate, hands clasped behind me,
nervously scanning the ground

when someone calls
from within the firefly-teeming forest
“I'm going. Stay well!”
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.