[mannequin in mittens]

remember that night the fireflies came out like stars?

the sun had long bundled herself
in the black blankets of the horizon
to escape the autumnlike chill that
had slipped into the evening's crisp air

me cupping my bare fists about my lips
like a harmonica player without a harp
blowing hot air like silent notes
through my chapped chilled fingers

you a mannequin in mittens
twirling about in your overcoat
like an overdressed ballerina
hiking boots for ballet shoes

the lightning bugs stuck to the sky watching you dance