At the Park Dance

As the melting park

          darkens, the firefly winks

to signal loving strangers

                   from their pavilion

          lined with Easter colored

lights, fading out together

                   until they merge with

          weathered huge trees and join

the small frogs, those warm singers;

                   and they have achieved

          love's vanishing point

where all perspectives mingle,

                   where even the most

          close things are indistinct

or lost, where bright worlds shrink,

                   they will grope to find

          blind eyes make all one world;

their unseen arms, horizons.

                   Beyond, jagged stars

          are glinting like jacks hurled

farther than eyes can gather;

                   on the dancefloor, girls

          turn, vague as milkweed floats

bobbing from childish fingers.

W. D. Snodgrass