Vermont weekend

August 8, 2002

After dinner, we all sat
outside on the porch
and listened to crickets
stitching their songs through
the glittering sky, so near
it seemed we could slip our heads
into a loop of stars
and wear them as necklaces.
A candle in a glass
carved out a small circle of light
and beyond that, meadows
slept while the woods
rose in dark silhouettes
curved like mountains.
Now and then a passing car,
so muffled it seemed apologetic,
swept the distance away.
We tossed a few words into the night
just to reassure ourselves
we were really there,
luxuriating in a dream
of eternal summer.