poetry

Fireflies, wandering eyes
Blinking through the popular trees It’s someone you know,

Magnetized to the night, to the Absolute silence
They lost their lips and fingertips And traded them for flames
And flying, for traveling sight

They perceive when someone

Folds their arms, they know
When a room grows a tree
Of tension, and they can trickle Fire free to burn it down
Fireflies, wandering eyes,
Blinking through the popular trees, Silent, but their light speaks,
And the forest crowd hushes
At the surprise of their glow

Where will they go
And what do they see?