Arion as a Child
Written By: Rebecca Starks
When the house still hugs the day’s heat
and my son wrestles sleep, I bring him down
to watch the fireflies,
Turn off all the lights inside, out,
and sidesaddle him naked off
the porch into the stars—
Some low, some high as the facing hills—
never where you last spotted them,
flickering like heat lightning.
Wading barefoot into the dew,
my fingers brushing the fine Braille
budding up from his skin—
A flash passes so close it streaks
like a meteor, and with a
dolphin kick and quick breath
In he dives—and I dive after,
catching him up. We have these leaps
in us, we hold these reins.
About the Author
Rebecca Starks’s poems have appeared in Slice, Rattle, Crab Orchard Review, Raintown Review, Poetry Northwest, and elsewhere. Her fiction has appeared in Tahoma Literary Review and Crab Orchard Review. She is a founding editor of Mud Season Review and teaches lifelong learners at the University of Vermont.