Summer Sparks

by Barry York

Setting sun, in its finale,
Drenching clouds with changing hues;
Glowing bits like shooting stars, Fly up then fade from the backyard fire;

Rising fireflies o'er darkening fields,
Myriads of tiny angels, signaling the news:

Soon gone are summer sparks,
Brief joys of which we never tire.

Slapping thighs, along with a few mosquitoes,
As stories meander in the dimming light;

Water's magnet still attracting
Splashing children too soon grown;

Even quieting voices sharing crosses
Make hearts glow in the peace of the stilling night;

Summer sparks become dying embers
Unless remembrance be over them blown.