Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Poem: Walking Through Fireflies

 After the PBS Evening News Hour where Biden and Putin met and staked out their territory

Scott and I drove to Hatboro. My old home town. Village Green which exploded after I moved out. In his driveway, I said, Scott, let's just sit here a few minutes and talk.

He opened up his door to let cool air in.

The fireflies were straight ahead.

One two four five nine.

What is their purpose in life, I mused.

What is OUR purpose in life, said Scott. "To ruin the planet?"

Tumbling out of the car, we saw two girls and their large dogs lolling on the sidewalk.

We all began to gab,

I love dogs, I said, I just wouldn't want to own one. Does that make sense?

They understood.

And Scott talked about the many dogs he's owned.

He will get up at 2 am tonight to watch Part II of Mannix on ME-TV.com.

A gibbous moon shown above.

So bright. So cheery. So full of life.

I wove my way up the sidewalk toward my red front door, stood there a while,

as the fireflies swirled all around me, all around me and my silky grey hair

and I thought I felt their soft touch against my beautiful but ancient body.




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