A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC

Last spring my wife, Jane, and I drove down to Tuscany and rented a small house in San Giovanni alla Vena, which, by virtue of its unique location, provided us with the best of both worlds: on the one hand, the simplicity of village life, and on the other, the enjoyment of our landlord's magnificent garden, to which we were given daily access.
In late spring, as temperatures increased, hosts of fireflies began to appear at night among the trees and along the avenue of Oleanders that lined the path to the villa.
It became our evening ritual to venture out to watch them dance in the darkness like soundless music notes. 

LUCCIOLE

We went to the garden after dark

to watch fireflies, like hopeful prayers,

gather about us. Each small spark,

minute, adrift on warm night airs.

On the flat surface of the night,

they seemed to dance at our behest:

we thrilled to their courageous light,

felt graced, uplifted, almost blessed.