Steve Klepetar

Glowworms

A man plays trumpet
on the Third Avenue
platform, while the crowd

swirls around him
and my mother growls
“I’d pay him not to play,”

his notes glowing
in the black tunnel
like glowworms on a summer night.


Steve Klepetar’s sons have forgiven him for chasing them around the house reciting the opening lines of the prologue to The Canterbury Tales.