On The Porch

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On a quiet night,

the old man

smokes a stogie

sitting on the porch.

He can only watch

the little beetles

with lanterns

light up the sky.

Now he knows better,

he doesn’t chase

after them,

collect fireflies

in Mason jars.

He doesn’t pull

their wings apart,

curious about how

they glimmer and fly.

He knows that

their blinking bulbs

are temporary

as his life,

the fading light

that glows.

©️mft