In the center of a dry summer,
\na yellow summer of
\nhot nights and early dawn,
\nI had forgotten the fireflies of June.
\nThere were none.
\nFor their stars, the rain must fall
\nto ignite June\u2019s show.
\nThen July, a few days before
\na storm, weeping rain,
\nand the summer opened up its arms.<\/p>\n
Grass grew and flowers bloomed,
\nand Mary called
\nsitting among the shadows
\nof the dark,
\nfireflies!
\nTed, the fireflies are here!
\nI haven\u2019t seen so many
\nin so long! she said.
\nThen fell into the silence of her awe.<\/p>\n
I stepped on the porch
\nand there in the night
\nwas a galaxy of golden stars,
\na ballet of flame,
\nan earth forcibly in love.
\nAn intensity so huge
\nI\u2019ve only seen it in eyes
\nthat look back at me
\nfrom the deepest wells.
\nThe soul light of a soul.
\nThe inside, the inside
\nof everything that lives.<\/p>\n
And I loved summer.
\nI loved the maximum journeys
\nof its sky.
\nAnd the lightning bugs of June
\nreturning in July
\nto make Mary smile.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
In the center of a dry summer, a yellow summer of hot nights and early dawn, I had forgotten the fireflies of June. There were…<\/p>\n