holding childhood


The Mason jar
sits clear and old
on the front step beyond the door,
its collar lost;

the punctured lid rests
on the rough cement
having let all the fireflies
free nights before;

it sits empty
but for the curves of dried grass;
clear and old it sits,
the wonderment of childhood it holds.

About Amy @ Love and Be Loved

Amy Secrist is a Catholic, a wife, and a mother of four (ages 15, 10, 8, & 7). She prays, teaches & practices postural yoga & meditation, snuggles, reads, writes, walks, and eats chocolate in a small town in Mid-Ohio.

One response »

  1. Ahhh…the jars of fireflies are so much a part of childhood!!! Lovely piece and execution…I love the detail of the lost collar! So enjoyable to read once again!!!

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