• glow •

• glow •
I get a bright idea,
but by the time my eyes adjust,
more often, than not,
reality reduces them,
to what amounts to,
an an embarrassed glow worm,
with no idea of
where they come from,
or where to go.
For the amusement
of my good friend,
Eleanor Springsteen,
Née Rigby (who used to be melancholic, in the extreme,
but, nowadays, probably laughs
too much now;
more than is good for her,
if that’s possible –
kids, nowadays.)
Still, that’s okay,
as they say –
I’ve collected them.
I keep them in a Mason jar,
by the door.
(And get this:
the bestest of them –
these crazy doodads,
they’ll glow,
if I jiggle them around
in the dark:
they’re fun, that way,
don’cha know.)
~ Tim Burchfield



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