August 6, 2020
They were in our zoo, but flew away just before publication. Here’s a short poem to remember them by.
Fireflies
light up the skies
of summer-evening childhoods.
On the breeze
float reveries
of something far away, but good.
Read part 8, from last week. She let the tug tug her out into the night, away out of town and up into the hills, toward the Pass of Pazain, keeping her Whoosh in sight, up way up high, …
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Read part 7, from last week. She threw off her quilt and jumped up and got going. She clambered through backyards, leapt dogs and climbed walls. Her Whoosh wasn’t trusting. Her Whoosh wasn’t slowing, despite her cajolings and …
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