Of Fireflies

A memory in lamplight,
the clarity in the blur
of little lights giving rise
to that spark you lost long ago.
You remember that night
under the stars when you made
yourself scarce. Not because
you couldn’t go home,
but looked up and realized
that you’re not alone.
Remember those fireflies,
those tiny lives and their
dance partners in the sky.
You held that lightning
in each hand and the
show never stopped
even after you let go,
admiring the beauty in the quiet
of a thunderless storm.