Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Fireflies in the twilight of the day,
moving specks of light in the dusk,
they weave their random trails,
brief messages in the looming dark,
the silent language of the night,
calling, calling to their lovers,
over here, I’m over here,
bright beacons of the tryst.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 04.01.22
Prompt: Illustration of jar filled with glowing fairies.
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