A good poet like Keith Tornheim can latch onto a certain image, (in this case fireflies) that can — (pardon the pun) — light up a poem.

Fireflies

Keith Tornheim

Do you remember when

the summer skies were full of stars

and competing clouds of fireflies,

and we walked and talked

of everything

till kisses interrupted words?

In honor of that time,

now nearly fifty years ago,

each night before we go to sleep,

I reach an arm across the bed

to hold you close for just a moment;

then you present your lips

for that short kiss

that echoes years of longer ones.

Now we hope to sleep till dawn,

but we remember once

we walked all night through fireflies

to greet the next day’s sun.

― Keith Tornheim

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