Every year I wait for the fireflies

and for the summer nights when

they flicker in the trees in the woods behind my house.

I call it my own light show, though

I know they don’t shine just for me

and I don’t have the heart to catch and hold them

in jars on my shelf,

to keep their sparkle and make it mine.

So I wait for them and watch them

for as long as they’re here.

And when the days get shorter and the nights get colder,

when they disappear,

I remember that all things in this world will come and go.

Nothing is forever. A hard lesson, learned over and over again.

I can’t hold on to the fireflies,

but I can watch them

every year.