when the street lights come on and the fireflies flicker
I am walking her home making plans
with her shoes in her hands I am watching her dance
as the hem of her dress gently kisses the grass
it suddenly rains on us
she is laughing and turns up her hands
like autumn turns leaves
the winter will breathe, cold on our necks
snow in our paths
wherever she goes all that i know about us
is that beautiful things never last
thats why fireflies flash
-ron pope
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