Michelle Paulsen
weekends of walking into the you grow tired a strange sudden
in storms
fireflies for
flashlights, all
children run
away, hiding
beneath bushes, beds
of leaves, musty and
warm. you wait,
and know that
someone will
save you, will
be brave enough to
break into the
open. but you're still
waiting for the call
ali allah in come free...
staring at a naked
up on his there is something
then there was the it may be a
snowflakes are fireflies for driving in the there is a