Becky Blakey

“I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread,
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout. He lay looking at her in the sheen of candlelight, realizing again that he was fond of the lines at the corners of her mouth. ‘Moth-like stars,’ he said. ‘Yes, go on.’ When I had laid it on the floor
I turned to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name.”
― Jan Karon, In the Company of Others