With sticky popsicle hands
and chlorine filled hair,
we kissed the sun goodnight
and waved hello to the moon.
Fauquier County lacked all
but magnificent views.
Flickering lights appeared
against the canvas of night.
Our bare feet frolicked
through dew covered grass
as we caught lightning bugs
and shared them with each other.
We wanted to keep them in glass jars forever.
Grandfather called us to a glowing campfire.
We roasted fluffy marshmallows
and ate chocolate galore.
We even snuck the brown-spotted dog
a burned s’more.
That night we fell asleep
smelling of smoke and sweets
while the lightning bugs danced
on this glorious summer evening.
