Galantly the fireflies make circles in the sky.
They brave the winter forest like ants upon a tower.
We are still and meager like them - often confused by the changes in season.
Our fate is just as shiftless - or shifting- one or the other.
In the glow of their aftermath neither really matters or needs to make much sense. There is only pause and matter. Delicious light.
Posted November 16, 2009 at 9:41am
