You turn the page and find a box of
fireflies.
As you read,
the box-lid slips askew
and florescence begins, as
gentle shocks
that surprise, then fade,
in a heartbeat rhythm,
warning that a summer day
is ending,
that everything is
temporary.
You turn the page and find a box of
fireflies.
As you read,
the box-lid slips askew
and florescence begins, as
gentle shocks
that surprise, then fade,
in a heartbeat rhythm,
warning that a summer day
is ending,
that everything is
temporary.