I wondered
We roasted marshmallows last night
and the shadows played in the starlight
like children chasing fireflies
or like fireflies chasing one another
and after just a few minutes spent
pulling molten goo from the end of my stick
the sugar began to lay heavy on my tongue
and sickly in my stomach, and I wondered
how good things turn bad so soon.
I added my limb to the kindling,
watched it join its family and smolder
all piled together in the fire, a genocidal pyre.
The darkness rendered the yard
two-dimensional and empty -- unreal
and the firefly flames began
to chase my memories, to peek
through the Irises in the plastic garden
of my mind and I wondered
how good things turn bad so soon.
Poetry
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