Sunday

Firefly Theatre



Slipped away into western light,
day dissolved into night
through forests of George's Gap.

The darkened sky drops stars
dissolving into phosphorescence.
Firefly.  Filling treetops, filling meadow.

And firefly?  Loosened from the
glass jar, could they dissolve our hatreds,
dissolve our anthem cry of mine, mine, mine?

Free of the glassy roundness of jar
could they take the child's hand
and slip that hand into another's?
Could they restore us to sanity?  Could
we dance with them their dance of love?

Dreams.  Beautiful dreams.