Life is Precious
by William Wiggins
Even as the night sighs,
I am enamored by the silence
of the trees. The leaves sleep
in the air as the boys
huddle closely together,
whispering of their fathers.
Fireflies hover in place
around us, barely glistening
as a woman rests her eyes
bedded with if.
Life—it’s still here.
Sometimes I forget.
But when there’s no more deer on the hill
or birds in the bush, we know they’re still,
too. Gone, but there. Waiting. Tomorrow,
the sun will rise, kissing the earth awake
and we’ll thank her with our being, our eating.
Nodding, I’d like to imagine
that there will be horses.
Some galloping, sweating with pride;
some sitting with the foal near the trees.
A gentle heat sliding through the leaves.
Or bees, buzzing by the flowers
as the boys sway in the field.
One humming, the other singing.
Or even, just the woman.
Sitting in the grass, shining.
And simply smiling.
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William Wiggins is an African American writer who is currently pursuing his Master’s in Psychology at the University of Cincinnati in Cincinnati, Ohio. He has been writing poetry since July of 2022.
