Lightning bugs arise like steam out of the tall grass. The setting sun is draping gold silk over the trees. It’s serene for a split second. Summer has been kind so far. Merciful.
The clothesline is stretched naked but for the pins drooping below. No breeze to blow dry. I don’t mind; I am too moody for laundry, anyhow.
Little eyes with rings of gold and lashes long, they smile at me. Bright white frames them like matted fine art.
Masterpiece.
Priceless.
I’m tired, but I’ve just enough muscle to wrangle in a moment. I catch it like a lightning bug in the palm of my hand. They’re similar; both flash for a wink and then you lose sight in between.
My moment lit up and glowed verdant with life. Now it’s peering into the dusk until it comes again.
I’ll keep watch.
SHE GILDS THE LILY: a lavish waste of words and wonder 