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Untitled MAG
Nights came with the flicks of fireflies
and on clear nights,
mistaking the glow for stars
was not uncommon.
With an empty jar
and a punched lid
we tried it again,
feeling sad for the few that were
too delicate for our fingers,
but forgot as the plink of glass
amused us.
We named each and every one,
made up elaborate stories of their origins
but eventually let them go
letting the flicks of the fireflies,
be mistaken for stars.
© Anonymous
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This article has 2 comments.
on Apr. 9 2011 at 2:05 pm
so beautiful and paints a picture of two innocent children dancing around in the night chasing fireflies!
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