Firefly

The short, sharp slapof a firefly’s wings 

as it catches the morning sun

over an ocean of rock pools. 

Each carries its own life order, 

none the same;

every which one set on a course 

that is uniquely its own.

Shells seek to out glisten the pool, 

whilst the seaweeds of electric green

and copper coated hue 

lie out a sensuous invite. 

The sun, now high in reign,

dances merrily on the water,

her rays reaching deep,

her touch without end.

Soon all will be washed away

as the tides of time 

come crashing inland

without any thought to hesitate.

Then, it will be all over.

Now, for a time at least,

serenity is all

and ignorance is bliss. 
A X 

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