Many things often take me back
To the scenes of my childhood days.
A sudden thought, or an old movie script,
Words from a spoken phrase…or fireflies.
A Little League game,
running boards on cars,
The smell of tar as it hits my nose,
Wild violets, red rover, or "8-9-10, here I come!
"Hot, dusty dirt between my toes…and fireflies.
Cotton candy will do it,
or pink bubble gum,
Or dandelions thick in my grass,
or the bounce of a ball,
But nothing transports me as fast…as fireflies.
The flick-flick signal like a flashlight
Of the lightning bug's mating call.
The flutter of my heart again
the mason jar
And the chase is on,
as I recall…the fireflies.
By Suzanne Bailer
There is a certain sadness that comes to me in summer.