A milky way of fireflies winked,
we lay unafraid in dank grass
excited by magic
lost in a din of tree frogs
locusts, crickets
their love songs
blanketing darkness.
The screen door
alive with flutterings,
on the picture window
a moon moth
giant Luna in
her luminous green glory-
my two small hands spread
can’t cover her.
Clattering June bugs
armored in slick brown
beat themselves senseless
against the screens,
banged and buzzed
small cactus-footed saws,
soldiers of a lost battalion.
Smooth green katydid
pea pod on legs
stalked the window
where flies flung their hopes
into the waiting web
of the orb spider
bloated now
her season of feasting
nearly over.
Better than Ringling Brothers
the circus of insect life
but these days
my screen is nearly empty
save for a small brown moth.
-Elizabeth Paxson
Elizabeth Paxson is a poet/writer and visual artist who lives among the mutable woods and bays of northern Michigan. Her work has most recently been published with: Redbird Chapbooks, Pangolin Press, Poet’s Night Out 2017-19, and others. Her deep love of nature is evident in much of her work.