Two fireflies danced through the woods last night,
the sight all the more precious now that their season
has reached its final days. Overhead, the first evening stars
sparkled against a dark velvet sky whose western horizon
still glowed with a deep orange gold. I slept in the sweetness
of perfumed air that carried the songs of crickets and frogs.
Then, when I woke, the world had been transformed,
the night’s twinkling lights exchanged for a shimmer of dew,
its tiny globes sparkling from every emerald blade of grass.
Such gifts, so freely given! These wondrous, velvet nights,
and all the glistening mornings.