Seasons of Gold
Katherine Hoerth is the author of a poetry collection, The Garden Uprooted (Slough Press, 2012). Her work has been included in journals such as Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, BorderSenses, and Front Porch. She teaches literature and creative writing at the University of Texas Pan American and serves as Assistant Poetry Editor of Fifth Wednesday Journal.
There was a time when summer meant to lay
without a purpose in the fresh-cut grass,
pluck honeyed globes of grapefruit from the trees,
devour them, lick our sticky fingers clean,
to rush through sprinklers, cool our naked ankles,
when days blurred into nights, to weeks, to months
to seasons spent on porches letting night's
maw swallow us. We'd watch the lightning bugs
illuminate the yard with gold and wonder
what it was that made the world go round.
The warmth of August cools into September.
I realized that days and months make years
that come, abruptly, to a simple end.
That's why the fireflies dance, to live again,
you said, lit up a pilfered cigarette,
then let me taste forever on your lips.