Firefly Season

As I was driving at the eleven hour,
it being the dark of night

Twenty miles behind me,
Twenty miles in front of me, only

The stars in the sky and the
hum of the motor in my car

My only company

The ditches along the road sparkled and flittered
with pinpoint lights

Following random Brownian Motion

Only seen through the
corners of my eyes-

But when viewed through the rearview mirror,
thousands, no millions of
tiny faery lights-

As first described in poetry
of old