—after Jeff Hardin
I slept in a room that glowed with fireflies,
though it was late autumn on a frosty bluff
high above Lost Cove. The room was a salve
of spun honey and light, and a hundred
little windowpanes gauzed with tranquility.
In a wide bed I slept alone, surrounded
by pillows and books, by poets I love.
In the night I lit a candle and a tiny string of lights
against the darkness. They were a comfort.
So was the darkness.
Outside I found an astonishment of stars,
a clear sky, spangled and deep.
How long had it been since I’d seen the stars?
This is how I fell asleep: my skin on soft cotton,
my body awaiting the gentle touch of fireflies,
their silent sparks. This is how I awoke:
unencumbered and enthralled, the early sun
casting over the mountain autumn into my room,
casting through the morning chill a stained-glass chapel,
a splendor of stillness, stirring.
Copyright (c) 2019 by Kory Wells. All rights reserved. Kory Wells recently served two terms as the Poet Laureate of Murfreesboro, where she founded and manages the reading series Poetry in the Boro. Her work has appeared in James Dickey Review, Ruminate, The Southern Poetry Anthology: Tennessee, and other publications.
Tagged: 2019 Southern Festival of Books, Poems