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
always summer
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 ...
this side
that smells of mountain pine & wild iris
scarred
but true
fireflies & shooting stars
yes
always in june
