Fireflies & Whiskey

I meant to tell you about fireflies

how they sang the sky to life as I sat

alone by the river the other night

but as they surrounded me in

their warm amber glow all I

could think of was whiskey

I've always hated the taste

except for the way it tasted on

your mouth that February evening

when you swore you would

never forget the way I looked

in the hush of twilight

but then midnight descended

the fireflies stopped singing

the whiskey wore off and that warm

amber glow was replaced with a sobering

darkness and a burning aftertaste of regret