Firefly

I saw it once and not again
though I can see it now,
one small and unapologetic burst,
one bubble of drifting light
as it arrayed the darkness
of a breath warm evening,
and for that moment
I was not alone.

One light, one time
and then no more
though I looked and waited,
yet somehow that smallest flare
completed something deep,
a hollowing down inside there
that I hadn’t known about;
or maybe it was a simple need
for something to come
just there, just then,
just as it happened to be.

I’ve heard they’re gone by daylight
but I hope it wasn’t so.
I hope it lived that night,
flashed again somewhere
and found its own.
Such beauty should, you know;
it ought to last for longer than
one spark, one single night.
It really, really ought to last.