June 9, 2015

the season's first fireflies 

"You feel like summer," I said not long ago, at our beginnings.

Maybe it is always a little like that.

We soldier out the back door and look into the darkness.

A thousand pixels, winking back. I wonder if they're mating,

if this is how they find one another, each body with its own

unique incandescence. A particular wattage. 

Now, the rain is pulverizing the pond, and they've disappeared.

I imagine them tucked into shelter, wings stacked, the hum 

of bodies finding themselves in the surprise and relief of company,

their tidy nest blooming with new light.