the green projectiles passing by my lawn,
firefly into blackness,
make me wonder if wishes come true.
the 5 my courageous eye first could decipher
streaked, giggled, then dissolved into second guesses.
I’m sure she isn’t watching them
she is sure I am a lunatic
standing staring up at the soup spoon
hoping that God blinks at me
a few hundred times
before the hour ends.
my life is a fleeting light in the distance
these fleeting lights remind of this.
content to dream
of all the wishes I have gathered.
the strongest one burns brightly
that maybe, just maybe
she is wherever she is
looking up at the sky like me…
Dont Panic Be Awesome 