Poetry by Caroline Randall
at the park, we sit at a picnic table beneath a tree, our faces disappearing in the wane of
daylight. the night is warm with a cooling wind and the scent of distant rain, but we are here,
beneath this tree, discussing the deer across the field and the amount of people still
in the park. we speak of lightning bugs and their absence, and as if summoned,
a single lightning bug glowed, then another, and another until I lost count of their
individual orbs, and i thought,
what kind of magic is this?
that led me beneath this tree?
that brought me to you?
Caroline Randall is a writer and painter living in Louisville, Kentucky. She holds an MFA and a BFA in creative writing from California College of the Arts and Spalding University, respectively. She currently proofs and edits court transcripts for a living.
