Sparks of fire dot the night

meandering in trails

of sudden bright, and flashing dark—

luminescent light-tails

seen. And quickly lost to sight.

–

The light ignites! A yellow ball

appears beside my arm.

I flash-grab at it greedily,

but powered by alarm

it disappears beyond recall.

–

I never know where I would take

them if I caught the sparks.

Collect them all in mason jars,

and watch the yellow arcs

at nighttime while I lie awake?

–

But just like fleeting bursts of sight,

like art and fairy tales,

I long to hold a spark of fire:

through dark and winding trails–

illumination in the night.