fireflys

last thursday,
four years ago.
I saw your footprints
on the wet grass,
leading to the hill.

I went searching for you,
but never got that far.
The light outside was dim,
only shining from one star.

And I walked through the darkness
outside your house.
Screaming at the top of my lungs.

Ended up at the lakeshore,
staring at my reflection in the water.
Dad said you'd know the feeling,
when you have a daughter.