fireflies spark past my window
like forgotten falling stars
or , is it shooting stars ?
remember that night in june when you
were there for me ?
found always in june - the labyrinth weaves the path
back to you .
when heat & starlight paint the pages of of our lives in
the muted colors of the plains
golden bleached to white ...
meadowlarks sing to a dawn ripe with raspberry hope &
the smell of sun-kissed skin lingers in the '69 mustang
along with a bottle of dime-store wine
kiss me & hold me fast
as this moment will not last
and fireflies leave their psychedelic trail of tears behind for you & i
blindfolded by fear & regret ,,,,
hear the trucks from the interstate singing of wanderlust & tomorrow ?
tell me a tale steeped in story & family & loss
and i will love you thru to the other side ...
that smells of mountain pine & wild iris
scarred, but true.
fireflies & shooting stars
always in june