Poetry

Fireflies

I caught a sliver of
unhurried lightning tonight.
Sitting
still
on a nature-quiet mountain path
breathing in
damp flower-scented summer air
swirling with fireflies.
One left a little trail
on my fingernail
and
for a moment
I lit up, too.
Cross-legged on that
darkened and hushed path
like a child
hands pressed
head bowed
I offered
giddy
sacred
gratitude for bugs.

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