Words escape me lately.
I think of a jam jar
bursting
with fireflies-
pulsing jade stars
in the dark’s
silky quiet.
I think of those sparks-
small beacons of life,
against the inert,
sable of night.
Lately, it’s like
I’ve unscrewed that jar
just to watch
with dumb eyes
as each precious spark
crawls out and then flies-
into the silk-
into the quiet.
Lately, I’m lunging
to catch their
jewel glow,
with splayed
clammy hands
and childish hope.
But the words
swirl around me,
pulsing, flashing,
fleeing, flying.
And here I am-
trying
to trap them
once more.
pm poetry 