Wild Fireflies

Why do the words seem to scatter

every time I sit down and silence the chatter?

Like twinkling fireflies

that gather into a glimpse of beauty–it flies.

With jar in hand, I chase their fluttering forms

ready to capture and show the world my wordstorms.

They flit away. I will them back,

staring at the blank screen, ready to attack

the keys. It’s too late… they’ve flown

and the untamed beauty remains unknown.

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