Firefly
Rage Hezekiah You were aglow, sharpening yourself against the lake-night sky. In a wooded cabin, lit by milky harvest moon, I lay awake. Traces of city life surrendered when you arrived, luminous, hovering above the bed. But you froze before me, caught in wisps invisible, your wings’ resistant vibrato in her web. I turned toward the dull buzz of you, saw your flickered light hum among the cricket din, your body dimming, a brief autumnal hymn.
glassworks 46