WindRavenX
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Thu Sep-29-05 01:05 PM
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Fireflies
When I was young and without fear my father once said that the night sky in Central Park was thick with fireflies. It was like walking in a meteor shower, he said. The humid air was so heavy with them that they precipitated out of the summer sky onto the warm pavement where they were crushed into glowing dust under the heels of careless Aristocrats and Beggars that walked in the park at dusk.
That was a long time ago. Now As you and I sit and eat strips of chicken and drink warm iced tea on the grass of Central Park in late September I realize the dark sky is Empty. No softly drifting emerald globes on lazy and metallic evening winds. They are all gone. But you did not care about this. You had never seen anything but the amber glow of the city.
So when the single brief pulse of green broke the dark rising up to the skyscrapers like an ember from a fire extinguished aeons ago— I smiled. I knew they would return.
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RagingInMiami
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Mon Oct-17-05 05:11 PM
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Nice sentimental ring to it, but not to awash in it. But if I were you, I would move the word "with" from the end of the third line to the front of the fourth line, so it will read "with fireflies" and the third line will end with "thick".
I always read poems out loud (or at least under my breath) and it just sounded better that way. But that is just my opinion. Good work.
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Xipe Totec
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Wed Oct-26-05 09:00 PM
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2. Brought "Grave of the Fireflies" flooding back |
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Sparks of memory from happier days gone by.
Thank you for your poem.
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DU
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Thu Oct 23rd 2025, 03:00 PM
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