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 ownunique 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.