Petite white parasols stroll on the night,
What elegant patterns they weave.
Like a chatter on the breeze,
Sensing, a spider's leg in the air,
Always blown past your fingers.
Taunting faeries unveil the night,
Dancing out the warm summer.
When dandelions bloom from new seeds,
Katydids cease their nightly serenades,
And my fireflies expire in a jar.
- 1998
Did a few tweaks. Take that, past-self!
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