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Dusk in summer

A poem.

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    Fireflies fill the air for their annual mating season in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park's Elkmont Campground outside Gatlinburg, Tenn.
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At dusk when day is standing still,

and darkness lurks behind the moon,

the lightning bugs begin to glow,

they flash their lanterns. Like a broom

my son sweeps air and scatters light

in pieces bright as comet dust,

he runs to catch them, but they rise

above his head, and then a gust

takes them upon another path,

lifts them and showers the neighbor’s yard

with unexpected drops of light,

as thick as rain but not as hard.

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