The eternal summer laughs, joyce mansour, the name, the face, the poet, jewish-eygptian, born in england, portrait fragments. she was right, the eternal summer laughs, like fireflies, barefoot grass, lemonade, and tanned skin. as tom hanks said, there’s no crying in baseball, save your tears for winter, today we laugh with june.
All is stillness in Kentucky woods
where fireflies flicker, earthen stars,
one, then another and another.
With my son, we get to sit and stare
together into glowing darkness,
watch floating journeys. He clicks our
flashlight to say hello, then asks me
to stay close before summer slumber.
Breathing softens, he falls asleep.
I lie next to him for many minutes,
let life be at ease. With dawn there
will be another day, but for now this
is all, this is everything.
Daniel W. Polk 