Yesterday, I crushed them
and smeared their brief light
onto my cheeks: radiant war paint
for shadowy battles fought house to house
until the porch lights called us home.
Today, barefoot in the grass, I wait alone
for nightfall’s dissolve . . . and their arrival,
those gentle lantern-bearers guiding
the summer night’s grateful retinue
from yard
to yard
to yard.
This poem first appeared in Ninth Letter (2022).
—
Kevin Grauke has published work in such places as The Threepenny Review, The Southern Review, Quarterly West, Ninth Letter, and Cimarron Review. He’s the author of the short story collection Shadows of Men (Queen’s Ferry Press). Bullies & Cowards is forthcoming from Cornerstone Press in 2026. He teaches at La Salle University and lives in Philadelphia.
