Firefly Love

Sometimes, bittersweet memories are all that’s left

Photo by Hathaichanok

I said to Julie—
Her hair wild with summer breezes as the fireflies
began their Morse code blinking mating ritual
while we stood beneath the old oak in the warm June twilight—

But, he said he loved you…

And she smiled and looked away in the distance, remembering 
long rambling walks on Sunday afternoons in the Spring,
sipping iced tea lemonade on the patio, 
surrounded by the perfume of flowers in pots,
holding his hand, rubbing her thumb lightly across his skin,
feeling his kiss as his lips brushed across hers

Briefly…

Fleeting…

Yes, fleeting