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Fruit Jar Fireflies
I see words, and they see me
It’s true they are sentient, quite
But they will never see the light
of my world through my loins
They keep floating by, ever speaking
never ceasing like tinnitus in my transcendent sight
Like orphans from somewhere never
Their little fingers grope as they look at me squarely
Speaking barely, “bring me into your light”
just before they are gone forever
So much needless loss
I kill my darlings before they become darlings
Their lot is to die in the vacuum
of my fickle muse
If only I could catch them like you do fireflies in a fruit jar
How pretty they would be to see in chaotic containment
and how witty they could be for those with the sight
But alas, my heart cannot hold all the incandescence ink
required for such a noble and beautiful task
So I shall be satisfied to smile when I catch one or two
Copyright ©
Gary Baldwin
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