I took a walk this evening
Just to stretch my legs
And clear my head
So on this summer’s night
Thick with the promise of a thunderstorm
I walk the streets of my neighborhood
Past familiar houses
With lights and families inside
Past the old meadow
Which remembers a long gone farm,
Past the tree-lined bog
Now silent for the night
Save for the infrequent croaking
Of a bull frog.
Around the bend I go
Into the newest neighborhood
With houses big as mansions
Painted every shade of a muted rainbow,
Meant to make them appear different,
Yet unable to hide the fact that
they are pretty much all the same.
Along the edge of the park I walk,
Where fireflies flash between the trunks of an oak wood,
And a small bunny rabbit scampers across my path
And into the rose thicket
Presenting me with an evening’s delight!
And I can’t help but wonder
If the children in these monstrous homes
Watching TV, playing video games,
Or texting their friends realize
what a wonder is waiting for them
right outside their doors?
And I can’t help but wonder if they even care,
Or if their will even be fireflies 20 years from now
And will the next generation even know what they are?
~Kathie Adams Brown (June 22, 2012)