Scoundrel Time

Waiting for Fireflies

They should levitate from the meadow at dusk.
one here,
one there,
an occasional landing on a sleeve,
but tonight there is no light show.
The mason jar lantern sits empty,
the gifts of a June evening are not.

We watch, hoping for a rising,
for a Northern Lights event writ small.
In the absence of fireflies we recall
the Barclay bar on East 52nd
Left Bank barricades
a bike ride in Brooklyn
a tryst in Cura­çao.





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