So far it’s not been a great summer in UK, but we are better off than California, for example, with its wildfires. And here, on Day 583 of the daily poems, our poet Alwyn Marriage finds a mysterious sparkle on a summer’s night in a Devon lane.
Mystery in a Devon lane
I’ve no idea
what sort of magic stirs
between April and June,
but can’t help noticing each year
that the deep banks that are softened
by pale yellow primroses in spring,
sparkle on a summer’s night
with the mysterious light
of glow worms, even when
the moon does not appear.
Alwyn Marriage